Old Bailey Proceedings.
2nd July 1888
Reference Number: t18880702

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Old Bailey Proceedings front matter.
2nd July 1888
Reference Numberf18880702

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Sessions Paper.








Short-hand Writers to the Court,








Law Booksellers and Publishers.



On the Queen's Commission of



The City of London,





Held on Monday, July 2nd, 1888, and following days.

BEFORE the RIGHT HON. POLYDORE DE KEYSER, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir HENRY HAWKINS , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; DAVID HENRY STONE , Esq., Alderman of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., Recorder of the said City; EDWARD JAMES GRAY , Esq., DAVID EVANS , Esq., STUART KNILL , Esq., GEORGE ROBERT TYLER , Esq., WALTER HENRY WILKIN , Esq., JOSEPH RFNALS, Esq., and GEORGE FAUDEL PHILLIPS, Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; Sir WILLIAM THOMAS CHARLEY , Knt., Q.C., D.C.L., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., LL.D., Judge of the Sheriffs' Court Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.









A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger(†)that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.


OLD COURT.—Monday, July 2nd, 1888.

Before Mr. Recorder.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-610
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

610. JOSEPH MATTHEW WILLIAM LONG (29) PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments for stealing whilst employed in the post-office post letters, containing postal orders for 20s., 5s., and 10s.; also to forging and uttering receipts to the same.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-610A
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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610A. ALFRED JAMES MOORE (26) to stealing an order out of a post letter whilst employed in the post-office.— Five Years' Penal Servitude [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-611
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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611. WILLIAM HENRY WARREN (34) to stealing whilst employed in the post-office two post letters, containing postal orders.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-612
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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612. HENRY MARTIN (28) to stealing 9s. 6d. of Arthur Lee, and to a previous conviction in 1880.— Nine Months' Hard Labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-613
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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613. JOHN CUNNINGHAM (20) to stealing a gold watch from the person of Albert Alliman, after** a conviction of felony in December, 1887.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-614
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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614. JOHN MONTAGUE (49) to breaking into the dwelling-house of Edward Field Cole, and stealing a dressing-case and fittings and 4l. 1s.— Four Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-615
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

Related Material

615. JAMES MACINTOSH McBLAIN (16) to six indictments for forging and uttering orders for the payment of 6l., 9l., 6l., 7l., 7l., 7l.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Recommended to mercy by the prosecutor.—Judgment respited.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-616
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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616. FRANK TALBOT (50) , Stealing a gelding, a set of harness, and a whip, the property of Charles Joyce.

MR. WILSON Prosecuted.

CHARLES JOYCE . I am a general dealer, of Albion House, Wellington Road, Hounslow—all that I knew of the prisoner before 28th May was that a fortnight previously he left me two bundles of tares—on 28th May he came between 9 and 10 a.m.—he said "Will you lend me your horse, harness, and whip, providing that I can buy the piece of tares that I am going to see about?"—I saw him next about half-past 12—he said "I have bought a piece of tares, and have started a man on to cut them and bundle them up well while I come for the horse and cart"—I know nothing of the cart; I simply lent him the horse, harness, and whip,

which he took away about 1 p.m., promising to bring it back that same evening—the pony was a chestnut with a white face—I did not see it after that till last Thursday when it was in the custody of the police—the the value of pony and harness was about 15l.—I did not authorise the prisoner to sell the pony—I said I wanted it again the next day for my own use, and he said he would bring it back the same evening.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. When I met you you said your pony was dead—I did not say I would go over to the beer shop and ask my wife if she would let you have it—I did not come back from the beer shop and say you could have the pony and harness and everything you required—you had no cart with you—I did not say you could have the pony by the week for the summer months—I did not receive a halfpenny from you—I did not lend you the pony by the week for the summer—I did not go to the tare field next day—I went to the police on the Monday—the first time I saw you after you took the horse from my place was at Brentford Police-court.

Re-examined. I afterwards saw my harness on Mr. Bryant's horse at Acton, and claimed it—that was a few days or a week afterwards.

ELLEN JOYCE . I am the prosecutor's wife—on 28th May the prisoner called to borrow this horse and harness; I objected to his having it—eventually my husband let him have it, and he said it should be returned the same evening.

WILLIAM BRYANT . I live at 23, Osborne Street, Acton, and am a dealer in tares—on 28th May the prisoner came to me as I was having my mare shod, and bought some tares of me—I gave him two dozen tares and the traces off my horse in exchange for a pair of traces that he gave me—the prosecutor afterwards came and claimed those traces.

Cross-examined. This was on Derby Day, I think—I could not say exactly when, a Monday or Tuesday last month—I did not tell Bracken bury I had given you the tares, for I should never get the money—it is not true that when you were in the public-house I rang the changes with the traces, taking yours and leaving mine behind—the blacksmith saw them shifted—I gave you leave to do it—we changed, and you tied mine in knots, because they were too long for your pony.

DAWS. I live at 18, Hawker Street, Marylebone—on 29th May I bought a pony and cart from Mr. Talbot, and gave him 4l.—it was a chestnut pony with a white face, an old cart, and an old set of harness—I was present afterwards when the prosecutor claimed the pony.

Cross-examined. You did not ask me 4l. for the cart, seat, and all the tares in it—you asked me 4l. 15s. for the lot—you did not say the pony and harness were not yours, and that the man wanted 16l. for them, nothing of the kind—I paid you the money, and you left the things with me—you had been to two or three people before coming to me.

RICHARD TAYLOR . I was present with the last witness when the deal took place about the cart and harness—I saw the last witness pay 4l. for it—he kept the cart and harness.

Cross-examined. You did not sell the cart, seat, and tares for the 4l.—you came to my place sober, and said "I want to sell the whole lot because I have got a place to go to at 30s. a week—you promised me 5s. to sell it at whatever I could, because you wanted to take the money home to your dear wife.

RICHARD HOWELL . I am ostler at the White Bear, Hounslow—the prisoner came in with a pony and cart on 29th May, and said he had a pony, cart, and harness outside he wanted to sell, he wanted 10l. for it—no deal was made; nobody bought it.

DANIEL HAWTREY . I am the landlord of the Travellers' Friend Hounslow—on 29th May I was in the Jolly Waggoners, Hounslow. when the prisoner came in and asked me if I had any tares, and if I could oblige him by letting him have a corner—I said all I had I wanted myself—he asked me if I would buy his pony and cart outside; he described it as "the little lot outside"—I did not buy it—I said I wanted no transactions with him, and that finished it—the pony was a chestnut with a white star in his forehead.

Cross-examined. I did not know you were joking; I did not know whose pony it was—you have known me from a boy.

JAMES WILLIAM BEN . I am landlord of the Plough, Little Ealing—the prisoner came to me one evening about three weeks ago—he had half a pint of beer, and said "Will you buy a pony like that?"—I said "No, 1 have got no use for such a one as that"—it Was a chestnut pony with a white star in its forehead—I did not buy it.

JOHN BRACKENBURY (Policeman T 133). Complaint was made to me about the loss of this pony and harness, and I went on 31s. t May to the Prince of Wales beerhouse, Hanwell—I found the prisoner—I called him outside, and said "Frank, what have you done with that pony?"—he said "I don't know what you mean"—I said "What have you done with that pony you had from Mr. Joyce a few days ago?"—he said "I don't know what you mean"—I took a warrant which I held for his apprehension out of my pocket, read it to him, and took him into custody, and conveyed him to Hounslow Station—on the way to the station I asked him what he had done with the harness—he said "Oh, I have hid that; Mr. Joyce gave me the pony, and told me to do what I could with it"—he also said he lent it to him for a week, and after that that he had lent it to him for the summer—he said he had hidden the harness; that he had done the best he could with it, and he said "You will never get it."

Cross-examined. You told me half a dozen tales about where to find the harness, but I found them all wrong—you gave me a wrong address—I was able to trace the pony; I found it at Hendon—I sent for the prosecutor, and he recognised it, and claimed it.

The prisoner in his defence said the prosecutor lent him the pony, and that he did not steal it; that it was improbable he should have sold a pony and cart worth 20l. for 4l., when the cart, which was his own, was worth mare than that; that he got tipsy, and went to Taylor, who offered to sell the pony and cart; that he said Taylor might sell the cart, hut not the pony, and that without his knowledge Taylor sold both pony and cart, and so robbed him of the pony.


He then PLEADED GUILTY* to a conviction of felony in December, 1871.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-616A
VerdictsNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

616A. JOHN SEDGWICK (45) was charged on two indictments for embezzlement and one for forgery, upon which, no evidence was offered.


NEW COURT.—Monday, July 2nd, 1888.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-617
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

617. WILLIAM JONES (27) and GEORGE SANDERS (61) Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin, having other counterfeit coin in their possession.

MR. LAWLESS Prosecuted.

JANE HYTHE . I am barmaid at the Queen's Arms, Cannon Street—on 12th June, about 8.10, I served Jones with some sack—he gave me a florin—I said "This is bad"—he said "I have just taken it for some goods I have sold, and it will be a bad job for me if it is bad"—I bent it in the tester—he had some wirework on his arm; he said he was selling them.

Cross-examined by Jones. I told the Lord Mayor I was almost certain you were the man; I picked you out, and when you spoke I was quite certain.

CLARA WEST . I am barmaid at the White Horse, Friday Street, close to Queen Victoria Street—on 12th June, about 8 p.m., Jones came in alone and asked for half-a-pint of ale, price 1d.—he put this florin on the counter—I bent it with my teeth, and asked him if he had any good money—he said no, and he hoped it was not bad, for he had just taken it for some work—he had these wires (produced) on his arm—my mistress told me in the prisoner's hearing to fetch a policeman, and while I was outside he came out and said "Where is my mate?"—I said "I do not know your mate"—he attempted to strike me, but I closed with him—he told me to do my best—I said "I will"—he ran up Friday Street; I ran after him—he got ahead, and when I saw him again he was in Watling Street.

Cross-examined by Jones. You did not say that you got it from a man outside—you slipped it along when you put it down—you did not say "Where is that man?"—you said. "Where is my mate?"

FREDERICK DAVIS (City Policeman 611). On 12th June, about 8.15p.m., I saw Jones in St. Swithin's Lane, carrying this basket on his arm—I followed, him to the Queen's Arms, Queen Street—he went in, and shortly afterwards came out and hurried away towards Thames Street—I followed with Saunders, a constable, and saw Jones meet the prisoner Sanders; their hands met, and Jones went towards the White Horse public-house, on the opposite side—I followed Sanders to Fenchurch Street, and stopped him without losing sight of him—I said "What money have you about you?"—he said "I have a few shillings," and produced five shillings, eight sixpences, and 1s. 11d. in bronze—I asked him what other money he had got—he mumbled something, and I felt his pockets, and in one I found these four counterfeit florins (produce), and three in another, one of which was bent—Mr. Ives identified it as passed by Jones—I said "I shall charge you with having counterfeit coin in your possession"—he said "Well I picked up a packet; I cannot; help it being bad no more than you"—I took him to the station, and he was charged with being concerned with Jones in uttering—he said he did not know Jones—Jones said nothing—the coins were in two separate packets wrapped in newspaper, but not divided.

Cross-examined by Jones. The barmaid did not arrive till 9 a.m.—she did not see you with others; she saw you in the dock.

Cross-examined by Sanders. I did not apprehend you till you got to

Fenchurch Street, because I did not feel satisfied; you kept looking back all the way, and I thought you were looking for the other prisoner, and to keep you under observation I went into a place where I could see the White Horse, and then I followed you and took you in custody; your actions told me what you were about, but I waited for the detective to catch me up.

WILLIAM SAUNDERS (City Detective A 1). On 12th June, about 8.25 p.m., I was with Davis in Queen Street, and saw Jones carrying these wire baskets, we followed him into Queen Victoria Street, where he spoke to Sanders for a few minutes—they walked towards Friday Street, and I saw their hands go close to each other as if they were passing something—Jones went into the White Horse at the corner of Friday Street, Sanders stopped on the opposite side watching the door—Jones came out and ran up Friday Street followed by Clara West; I followed, lost sight of him for a moment and found him detained by Gardner.

GEORGE GARDNER (City Policeman 615). I heard cries of "Stop thief," and saw Jones running across Cannon Street, I followed him to Bread Street—he turned to run back and I stopped him and asked what he was running for—he said "I don't want to be charged with what I am innocent of"—I took him to the station and found on him 1d. and four pieces of bent wire to hold baskets.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to Her Majesty's Mint—these two bent florins are bad and from the same mould, and here are six more from the same mould.

Jones in his defence stated that he met Sanders and asked him to give him some drink, that Sanders gave him a coin which he put in his pocket, and when he went to get some ale he found it was a florin; that he then ran after Sanders, hut was taken in charge, and Sanders stated that he picked up a packet of coin, but did not know it was bad, and said Jones gave him one of the coins.

JONES— GUILTY** of uttering only. Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

SANDERS— GUILTY **.—He had been 25 years in prison for different offences.— Two Years' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-618
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

618. GEORGE WILLIS (22) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.

ERNEST CRANE . I keep the Weavers' Arms, Hanbury Street—on 16th June, about 11. 50 p.m., I served the prisoner and two other men with drink, and saw a shilling on the counter—I took it up, it appeared to have been tried in a tester, and I put it on a rack with other shillings, but there was no other bent one there—I put the change on the counter, I did not see who took it up—after closing time I looked at it again and saw that it was bad—I kept it—this is it—on 18th June, about 6.30 p.m., I served the prisoner with half a pint of ale and a pennyworth of tobacco—he appeared under the influence of drink, and I said "I cannot serve you with any ale. "Iserved him with ginger beer and tobacco, price 2d. he gave me 1s., I tried it with a liquid and found it bad—I said "Where did you get this?" and told him it was bad—he said "I do not know, I did not know it was bad, but I have got some more money, take it out of this," putting more money on the counter—I saw that the 1s. was apparently from the same mould as the one I took on the 16th, and went into the parlour to call the barmaid, and when I returned in 10 or 12 seconds the prisoner had gone, I followed him and saw him outside,

but lost sight of him—I saw him on the 22nd with about twelve others and identified him.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not lend a man some money over the bar, nor did he pay for your drink with it.

THOMAS STACEY (Policeman H). On 23rd June I saw the prisoner in Brick Lane—I had received information, and took him in custody, and told him the charge—he said "I know nothing about it"—going to the station he said "I know nothing about the one on the 16th, but I do on the 18th; the man told me it was a bad one"—I received these two bad shillings from Mr. Crane—when the charge was read the prisoner said "I know nothing about it."

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These coins are bad, and from the same mould.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I did not run out of the place; I live within 40 yards of the Weavers' Arms, and the constable took me outside of my own place."

The prisoner in his defence stated that he met Charles Thompson and another man on the 16th; that Thompson borrowed a shilling over the bar, but that he (the prisoner) did not pay with a shilling as he only had 5d., and on the Monday a gentleman gave him 1s. 6d. for carrying his portmanteau; that he tendered the shitting at the Weavers' Arms, and found it was bad.

GUILTY** of the second uttering. Ten Months' Hard Labour.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, July 3rd, 1888.

Before Mr. Recorder.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-619
VerdictsGuilty > unknown
SentencesNo Punishment > sentence respited

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619. GEORGE PAYNE and WALTER YATES, Stealing on 19th November, 1887, 4 cwt. of waste-paper of William Hill Collingridge and Leonard Collingridge; also for stealing on 9th May other waste paper. In Other Counts, YATES was charged with receiving the same, knowing it to have been stolen.

MR. HORACE AVORY Prosecuted; MR. BLACKWELL appeared for Payne,


JOHN JAMES BENNY . I am manager of the printing department of Messrs. Collingridge, printers and publishers, 148, Aldersgate Street—they are proprietors of the City Press—in the course of business a large quantity of waste-paper is left in the warehouse—Payne was foreman of the warehouse; Yates is a waste-paper dealer—he has been in the habit of collecting our waste-paper for the last four or five years—it was Payne's duty to superintend the weighing and delivery of the waste-paper to Yates's vans, and to make out a delivery note showing the quantity of waste-paper that has been delivered—the delivery note is kept in the warehouse, from that the invoice would be made out to Yates—on Wednesday, 9th May last, I received instructions from Mr. Collingridge, in consequence of which I waited until Yates's vans were loaded—I saw the vans waiting to be loaded about 20 minutes past 9—when they were loaded I sent Mr. Alexander, one of the clerks, to ask Payne for the delivery note—Mr. Alexander brought me this delivery note (produced)—it is in Payne's handwriting, and is signed by Yates—it is dated 9th May, 1888, and is in this form: "Received from W. H. and L. Collingridge 13 cwt. and a quarter shavings and 20 cwt. of rubbish"—that is all that is shown on the delivery note—we have

three classes of waste-paper, shavings, clean waste, and rubbish—the paper is used entirely in the printing department—some of the paper so employed ultimately becomes waste—the clean waste would accumulate day by day—Yates's vans collected about every five weeks—having got the delivery note I went to where the vans were—one van was a large one and the other a small one; they were both loaded—Yates was not there when I first got round—he came up two or three minutes afterwards—I said to him "We shall want this waste re-weighed"—he objected, and said he would not have it re-weighed, and asked what would pay him for his trouble and time—he asked why I wished it re-weighed—I said "Because I am not satisfied with the weight as given in on the delivery note"—he still objected to the waste being re-weighed, and he told the carman to drive away—I said if he did I should have to stop him—after I had said so he told his man to drive away, and the small van was driven up Clothfair—I sent a man named Spain after it, and told him to bring the van back, and if necessary to call a constable to compel him—I saw a constable come up shortly after—the van had got some distance down Clothfair, and Yates called after the van, and it was brought back—Yates said we might have our goods back, all that belonged to us—he said that only 18 bags on the small van belonged to us, and either 51 or 55 off the large one—he said the other bags had been collected from Pardon's and Judd's—I said the Whole had been collected from our premises, and I required them all to be thrown off—he threw off about 30 or 32 sacks from the small van—he afterwards drove away with the remaining sacks, seven or eight, I could not say exactly—those would be large sacks—I should think they were shavings, weighing about 1 cwt. or 1 cwt. and a half each, sack—all the sacks were taken off the large van—I then had the whole quantity re-weighed which had been left behind by Yates—I superintended the weighing—I found 4 cwt. 1 qr. and 24 lb. of waste among it, not entered on the delivery note—I also found 13 cwt. and 24 lb. of shavings; that was rather less than that entered on the invoice—the rubbish was 2 tons 7 cwt. 3 qrs. 11 lb., showing a difference of 1 ton 7 cwt. 3 qrs. 11 lb. of rubbish above the quantity on the delivery note—the price per cwt. of the waste varies from 1s. 6d. to 5s.—at this time the rubbish was 1s. 3d. a cwt., the clean waste 4s., and the shavings 5s. 6d.— that same afternoon I saw Payne in the presence of Mr. Collingridge—he was sent for—I heard what passed.

By MR. BLACKWELL. I was there when Payne came in—I heard all the conversation—Mr. Collingridge first of all said "I have sent for you to hear what you have got to say about this"—he did not say "You had better tell us what you know about it; you had better tell the truth about it"—I did not hear those words—I was there the whole of the time.

By MR. AVORY. Mr. Collingridge said "It is a very serious matter; I have sent for you to hear what you have to say"—Payne at first said "I have nothing to say"—he afterwards said "I have been a fool," or "Very foolish; he tempts you; he more than tempts you"—he said "This matter of the waste has been going on for some four or five years, ever since Yates has collected the waste; I have known 5l. worth go in the same way"—he said more, but I cannot recollect it for the moment—he said if Mr. Collingridge would overlook it he would work hard and make up for it—Mr. Collingridge said it was a very serious matter, and

he should have to see his solicitor, and Payne would have to put on his hat and coat and go; he dismissed him.

Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. Payne said this had been going on ever since Yates collected—I did not say that before the Magistrate—I did not mention the name of Yates—I did not recollect the whole of the conversation at the time—I have not been talking it over with Mr. Collingridge since—I remembered the reference to Yates immediately the Court rose—I may have stated then that Payne said "This practice has been going on for some years"—I heard nothing about averaging before to-day; I may have heard something of the kind from Yates—I have been manager of the printing department two and a-half years; previously I was a clerk to Messrs. Collingridge six years, at the same office—Mr. Rawley was foreman before Payne—it was Payne's duty to weigh, or to get somebody else to weigh; the foreman would make his own arrangement—I cannot of my own knowledge say whether, on this particular occasion, he had weighed or not; I believe the person is here who weighed on that day—Payne would be responsible for the weighing, if he did not weigh himself he would have to take the weights from the person who did—I believe he always weighed himself; I was not there—I have never been present when the weighing has been going on, except after these seizures from the van—some sacks were driven away on this occasion; I had received information that the vans were empty when they arrived—I saw the sacks in the van—I could not swear that they were Messrs. Collingridge's—there was about 4 or 5 lb. of shavings less in the sacks than was on the delivery note—it was about 2 o'clock when Payne was called into the office by Mr. Collingridge—Mr. Collingridge had previously sent for him, but he was out, I believe at dinner—when he came back he had apparently been drinking—Payne is at times very excitable.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Yates supplies the bags and the vans to take the stuff away—the bags vary in size; some are large, some small—I believe whichever bags come first are used—the large bags would not represent one class of weight, and the small bags another—rubbish is the paper collected from the floors of the rooms—where materials are swept from the floors there is a possibility of other things getting in, but we have dust-bins—one of our witnesses may have said at the police-court that sometimes the sweepings would be composed of old boots and ginger beer bottles—I don't contradict it—Yates buys it as rubbish, not as paper—it has been understood that all the waste should be weighed—Mr. Rawley was manager for many years—in his time it was not entirely the custom to average the rubbish at so many bags to the hundredweight—I should very much doubt that out of 6 tons of rubbish there would be two or three tons of dirt—I don't know that it is the practice of Messrs. Bradbury's, Messrs. Spottiswoode, and other large printers to average the rubbish; I have not made inquiries; it took me quite by surprise on 9th May that such a practice should exist—the former foreman did not admit such a practice, not as a general thing—I have never seen the bags taken away; they are taken away early in the morning when no one is about—clean waste accumulates every day, the same as the other waste—probably Yates takes away clean waste every time his van comes—the boys fill the sacks—some of the sacks may have been filled a fortnight before—sucks were left by Yates ready to be

filled—Yates does not depend upon our foreman for the weights until he gets to his own place; he has the opportunity of checking it at out place—I think he offered to allow Mr. Collingridge to inspect the stuff; that was after the small van had been driven away. Mr. Collingridge told him he would have to bring it back—it was brought back, but I not certain whether the same bags were brought back; I am under the impression that they may have been changed—I believe they were differently placed in the van—they had not the same appearance—probably an hour and a-half had elapsed before the van returned—Mr. Judd and Mr. Pardon are printers; I know nothing about their business—I went to them—I found out Pardon's that Yates' van had been there.

Re-examined. I found that Yates' van had been to Pardon's between 8 and 9 o'clock in the morning—the vans were loaded at our place at 9.20; I was not there to see them—nobody but Yates collected this class of waste from us for the last four or five years—there might have been special matters that were cleared away from time to time by other people—he is the only person who came regularly for these classes of waste—the clean waste should not be mixed with the rubbish, they come from different floors—the sweepings come principally from one floor—the rubbish comes more particularly from the machine-room floor—it should chiefly consist of waste paper of some sort or other—we have a dustbin for refuse of all kinds, dust, dirt, bottles, &c.—men are employed to clean the floors of such things—it is their duty to separate such things from the paper; if a bottle got into one of the sacks I should say that would be very rare occurrence; I am about the place continually, and see what is going on—I never saw a dead cat there—the men occasionally wear old boots in the office—what I said before the Magistrate was "Payne said 'This practice has been going on four or five years, and I have known as much 5l. worth go n the same way.'"

LEONARD COLLINGRIDGE . I am partner with william Hill Collingridge, at 148, Aldersgate Street—Yates has been in the habit of collecting our waste-paper for four or five years—no other person has done so regularly for that period—occasionally there would be large parcels of accumulations of magazines and periodicals, which would be the subject of a separate contract for sale—clean waste, rubbish, and shavings would be collected by Yates—there would always be clean waste to be collected; there should be from 4 to 8 cwt. of clean waste every month; that would be the average accumulation—prior to the 9th of May I had received certain information, in consequence of which I instructed a watch to be kept—on 9th of May, about 11 o'clock in the morning, I saw Yates in my office—at that time the small van had not come back—Yates asked to see me, and, stepping into my room, he said "There is a lot of bother round the corner, Mr. Benny has stopped the vans and interfered with my taking it away"—I said "It is a very serious matter; I have received information that the waste is very largely in excess of that on the delivery note; it is a very serious matter indeed, and I can say nothing to you about it, except that you have driven away with some six or eight bags of shavings, and I must insist on your bringing that back"—he said they were all shavings he had collected that morning from Messrs. Judd and Messrs. Pardon—I told from if he did not bring them back of his own accord I should compel him—he then went away—

he came back in about two hours, and said "I have brought the shavings, come and look at them"—I said "No, I shall not look at the shavings, the affair is of a very serious nature, I will say nothing more to you, I shall send over and consult my solicitor"—between the time of his going away and coming back I had received further information—after he had gone I sent for Payne; he was not in at first, I saw him about 2 o'clock in Mr. Benny's presence—I said to Payne "What has occurred has distressed me very much, I have sent for you in order that you may give what explanation you choose"—he said "I have nothing to say, I could tell a lot, but I shan't in the presence of Mr. Benny"—I said "Whatever you say must be in the presence of Mr. Benny; I don't ask you to say anything, but I have sent for you to give you the opportunity"—he then said "I have been tempted to do it, more than tempted, it has been going on four or five years, ever since Yates cleared away the waste; I hope you will forgive me, I will serve you well in future, I will go straight, that I will"—I think that was all that passed, except telling him that what had occurred was so serious that I must ask him to put on his hat and leave the place—I told him that the waste-paper that had been delivered was so largely in excess of what had been accounted for in the books that I should send for Mr. Holder, our solicitor—he appeared to understand thoroughly what he was saying and what he was about.

Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. I do not think Payne has been in our employ quite so long as nine or ten years, I would not swear he has not—I should think he came with a good character or he would not have been accepted—on one occasion he took charge of my private house when I was away; I had confidence in him, he was for some time deputy under Mr. Rawley—I know now what Mr. Rawley's practice was—it was no part of Payne's duty to fill the sacks, that would be done by the boys and men in each department—there would be a certain amount of rubbish in each department—I don't think it possible for clean waste to get mixed with rubbish—I don't think the boys would mix all sorts of things in the bags; it is scarcely possible that rubbish could get mixed with clean waste—I do not deny that it might be so, but it would be very slovenly and a very rare thing for a pair of old boots to get mixed in the bags—I am not prepared to say that out of 2 tons of rubbish there might not be a pair of old boots—we have a man to sweep up—Payne knew very well what he was saying; he was not at all excited, he was calm.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I did not in the first instance instruct my solicitor to proceed by way of summons, I left the matter to his discretion—I think I said before the Alderman that the clean waste was invoiced once in about three months—I said that without reference to my books I could not speak as to figures—I say that clean waste must have gone out every month, because it was accumulating everyday, and it was missing—it was part of our servants' daily work to bag up the rubbish and pack up the clean waste; that would rest with Payne—I think Yates said it was not customary to weigh the rubbish; that was the first time I heard of that—I did not know that Rawley had done it—after Payne's statement that it had been going on four or five years I sent to Mr. Rawley that I should like to see him—he called, and he thanked me for giving him the opportunity of explaining the transactions while he was manager—he informed me that he had left the weighing to Payne;

that he did not understand the scales; in fact, he must confess, although it seemed very foolish, that he did not understand the weighing of the machine, and could not have done it—he told me he had caused the large bags of rubbish to be sorted from the small, and that he then put some of the small bags on the scales, and found them average about a quarter of a cwt; that four of the small bags went to the cwt.—that refers to the small bags—that was brought to my knowledge for the first time when Payne said that was the way it done—Rawley told me according to his experience he was quite clear that averaging would be in favour of the firm. Re-examined. First-class waste as a rule is invoiced once in every three transactions—I am constantly about the premises—if the clean waste is not taken away my attention would be Payne's duty to see that the clean waste was packed up and delivered—it would scarcely be in the boy's hands.

JOHN HAYNES . I am errand boy to Messrs. Collingridge—I sometimes fill the bags with shaving and waste paper ready for Yates to take away—on Tuesday, 8th May, I filled the bags to be taken away on the 9th—I filled three or four bags of shavings, and left them in the warehouse near the hand press—on Wednesday morning I saw a pair horse van there about half-past 8—my bags of shavings were then gone; I don't know into which van they had gone.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. There is a dustbin out in the yard; that is used for the warehouse—Mr. Collingridge was in the police-court when I gave my evidence—as I swept up the shop I used to put the sweepings in the bag; now and then an old boot would get in, not ginger-beet bottles or glass—I have seen one or two bits of rag—it is my duty to put such things in the dustbin—the sweepings of the shop should go into the dustbin.

Re-examined. I never saw any ginger-beer bottles get into the bags—I only once saw a boot get in. FRANCIS BLAKE. I am warehouseman to Messrs. Collingridge—on Wednesday, 9th May, I saw Yates' vans at the premises at 20 minutes past 8 in the morning, a small van and a large one—there was nothing in the large van—there were three bundles of empty bags in the small van—that was on my arrival at my work—after that I saw Payne at the warehouse—he asked me if I would mind going round to the yard to help to load up the vans—there is a store in Bartholomew Close where some of the waste paper is put—I went there for the purpose of loading up the vans—by that time there were three or four bags full of waste in the small van—I went past the large van; there was nothing in it at that time; that was about 20 minutes to 9.

Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. The rubbish is all filled in the bag before Yates is told to call for it—he calls about every four or five weeks—the filling goes on during the whole of the time—two or three boys are employed in filling up the bags—I have not had a rise since Payne left—the boys are from 14 to 18 years of age—they are not always very particular about what they put in the bags—I suppose I was as bad as the rest—they never put the shavings and rubbish together; I never did.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I did not see the small van drive up that morning—the tailboard was down—I saw three empty sacks—there was nothing in the big van when it came; I am sure of that—there were four or five of us there—Mr. Worland was there—the bags are filled

up from time to time, and put on one side till Yates calls—the dustbin is in the yard; that is used for dirt—dirt never gets into the bags—I would not put the sweepings of the floors into the bags; I have heard of it being done.

Re-examined. The shavings come from a different place to the rubbish.

HENRY WEBBER . I am warehouse boy to Messrs. Collingridge—I remember Yates's vans coming to the premises on the morning of 9th May, about half-past 8—I saw Yates before I saw the vans—Payne was there when Yates arrived, he said something to Yates about having expected him the day before—I went down past the small van, it was then empty—I saw two bags put into it from the warehouse behind the hand-press—soon after I came back again past the small van, and then saw about three or four bags in it, not more than four—I took part of the weighing machine round to the shed; Mr. Worland took one part and I the other, to the store in Bartholomew Close—I did not notice the weighing machine being used that morning.

Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. I help to fill the sacks on my own floor; I am the only boy on my floor—only waste-paper is put into the sacks; rubbish paper is put in, no dirt, I take that out into the dust yard.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I was in Court when the other boys were examined—I had no particular reason for looking at this van—I did not notice whether the tail-board was up or down—I did not climb on to the wheels to look in—I did not notice any bags in it.

Re-examined. When I came back the tail-board was down, when they were putting the sacks in.

WILLIAM WORLAND . I am warehouseman to Messrs. Collingridge—on the morning of 9th May I saw Yates's two vans at the shed in Bartholomew Close, about 20 minutes to 9—at that time there were about four full bags in the small van—there was nothing in the large one—I helped to carry out the bags—Payne was there—the weighing machine was there, it was used by Payne; he had got a piece of paper putting down the weight as it was weighed—it was not put down on the delivery note, it was on a white slip with a pencil—I did not see him make out the delivery note—I can tell the difference between shavings, rubbish, and clean waste by the look of the bags—I have assisted on former occasions in loading the vans, and seen Payne there—the weighing machine was usually there, Payne always used it.

Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. He always did the weighing him self—I could not tell what he put down on the paper—there were four persons loading; I don't think there were five—I believe it was the custom not to weigh the rubbish, but to average it; I know that the rubbish was not weighed, that practice went on for some time when Mr. Rawley was foreman.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I have been 13 years with Messrs. Collingridge—I have seen the stuff weighed—Payne would be responsible for the weight—I have seen Yates there with Payne—Yates left Payne and went down to the bottom of the yard on this morning, about 40 yards from where the weighing was going on—Yates did not always see to the weighing, he has watched it in a casual way; he could see it weighed if he liked, he trusted to Payne.

Re-examined. A bag of shavings, when bagged up properly, would

stand up alone, a bag of clean waste would topple over—anybody accustomed to the articles would know that in the van both would lie down.

FREDERICK WILLIAM ALEXANDER . I am clerk to Messrs. Collingridge—I keep the day-book—on 9th May I was sent by Mr. Benny to get the delivery note—Payne handed this delivery note to me, it has Yates's signature, the document is in Payne's writing—I make an entry in the day-book from the delivery note, and the invoice is made out from the day-book and sent to Yates—on 9th May I actually weighed the goods which had been taken out of the vans, and made these entries in the day-book—before I weighed them I had seen Yates talking to Policeman 366—the constable said to him that he would be likely to get the police in a bother for not stopping when he was told—Yates said "Oh, any b——coffee-house keeper might tell me to stop"—the constable said "I am not a coffee-house keeper, my uniform shows my authority"—Yates was excited, and made use of a lot of abuse to the constable, and said "Oh, you know waste-paper merchants are not supposed to have consciences"—I have here the counterfoils of the delivery notes—I have not found the delivery note for 6th April—I keep the counterfoils, they are handed to me by Payne, he made out the counterfoils as well as the delivery note, and Yates signed it—it is dated "6th of the 4th, '88, 19¾ cwt. of shavings, 23 cwt. of rubbish, no clean waste"—that was entered by me in the day-book, and the invoice was made out in the ordinary way and sent to Yates—he had paid the firm for the quantity shown there—I remember the particular occasion of the 6th April—I asked Payne at the time why he had not given me Yates's signature for the goods, and he said Yates had taken it away with him, and he would send him a letter asking him to return the receipted delivery note at once—I never had it—this delivery note of 19th November, 1889, is in Payne's writing, signed by Yates, it is for 9¾ cwt. of shavings and 151/4 cwt. of rubbish; no clean waste—he only paid for what he signed for.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Yates was a good deal excited with the constable, I can't say he was angry—he seemed to think he had been bowled out, in being captured by people being deputed to watch his motions—he did not mean that if he had not been a wastepaper dealer he should not have been treated as he was—I did not hear him say "Waste-paper people are not supposed to have souls to be saved," what I inferred was that waste-paper people were not particular in their dealings; what he said was "We waste-paper merchants are not supposed to have consciences," meaning to say that if it was stealing he did not think it was any great harm.

JOSEPH ALLEN . I am now a stone-polisher in the employment of Johnson and Co., of Charterhouse Street—I was formerly in Messrs. Collingridge's service, I left them shortly after Christmas last—while I was there I have seen Yates collect the waste-paper, during the last four or five years—I always assisted in the delivery—I never had anything to do with the weighing, Payne always did that—he made a note of the weights on a slip of paper—I have seen what he put down—he put down 31/2 cwt. when the bag weighed 1¾ cwt.—I saw that—that was either just before Christmas or just after, the last time I helped to load up—I have seen something like that on very nearly every occasion when Yates has been—I never saw more put down that the stuff weighed—I used to fetch the clean waste from the

women's room, and afterwards saw it delivered to Yates, it was put in his van—sometimes it was there ready for him, sometimes it was left in the warehouse, and sometimes it was taken down to the waste-paper place—it was not always weighed, it was put in without being weighed, I have put it in myself without being weighed—Payne has sometimes said to me when I have been in the warehouse, "Put it in the van, I will weigh it when I get it round the corner"—he did not weigh it round the corner—the clean waste and the rubbish was always taken away in different bags—I could always tell by the appearance whether it was clean waste or not; I used to pack it in the women's room, I could not put much clean waste in a bag, it would weigh too heavy—after Yates had gone away with the rubbish Payne used sometimes to treat me over at the Portland, if he treated me once I had to treat him about three times for it—he told me when he treated me that Yates gave him the money—he once changed half a sovereign with me at the Portland, and he said Mr. Yates had given it to him.

Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. I knew that Payne was robbing his master—I had to go by his orders, whatever he told me I had to do or I should have got the sack—I did not share in the proceeds, I only had half a pint of ale with him and I had to treat him, that was to keep in with him and keep my job—he made no concealment about this, perhaps he might have thought I was as big a rogue as himself—I don't know whether anybody else saw it; when he had done with the slip of paper he put it in his pocket and walked round to the ware house—there were two or three others present at the time he put this down on the slip of paper—I was dismissed a few days after this, Payne dismissed me, he did not treat me fairly; I asked him for a character, he said he would not give me one, I said I had five little children to look after; he said he did not care for me or my children—I said "If you are going to get me out of work I will get you out of work," and I have done quite right—he did not care for me or my wife and children, therefore, why should I care for him?—he could have given me a character if he liked.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. There was always waste every time I helped to load—I was contented with my masters, they behaved well to me—I did not rob them or help to rob them; I will not swear that—I knew there was something wrong—Mr. Collingridge paid me my wages—I was obliged to do what Payne made me.

Re-examined. Payne was my foreman, he had the power to dismiss me, and he did dismiss me—I told him if he did not give me a character I would see him without one—I have a situation now and am still in the service.

HENRY GILLARD (City Policeman 367). On 9th May I was called to stop a one-horse van going down Clothfair—Yates was behind it in the road—I called to the man to stop three or four times—Yates said "Hold hard, listen to what I have got to say first, "Isaid I must stop the van first; I went to the horse's head and stopped it—Yates said "Why should I turn round to please that d—scamp? "Isaid "Who is he?" he said "Mr. Benny, "Isaid "Who is he?" he said, "Manager of the City Press, he wishes to have them things weighed over again"—I told him he had better take them to where he got them from—I said to the driver "Why did not you stop when I called to you?"—the van was

turned round and taken back to where he got the stuff from—I went down there and saw him taking the bags off—he said "I don't see why I should take them off for that d—scoundrel."

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. He was excited, he did not seem as though he liked to be interfered with.

JOHN GOSS (City Policeman 366). I arrived at Bartholomew Close, and found the other constable there, and the sacks thrown on the ground—I complained of their obstructing the thoroughfare—I told Yates if he did not pick them up I should summon him for it—he said "I will hare nothing more to do with them," and he then told the carman to go away—he went away, taking some of the sacks with him—I afterwards said to Yates "Why did not you stop when I asked you?"—he said "Oh, any b——coffee-house keeper might stop me; why should I stop for you?"—I said "My uniform will show you that I am no coffee-house keeper, and also show you my authority"—he said "Oh, waste-paper people are not supposed to have any consciences"—a short time after that he said "You need not take any notice, old man, of what I said; come and have a drink."

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I did not go and have a drink; I was on duty.

JOHN JAMES BENNY (Re-examined). The waste which accumulated after the 9th of May, after Payne had been dismissed, was cleared on the 9th of June; that was a month's accumulation—this is the delivery note; it was 24 cwt. of shavings, 12 cwt. of clean, and 29 cwt. 1 qr. 15 lb. of rubbish—that was a fair average quantity—Yates was a stranger to me until I spoke to him on 9th May; I had never known him previously—before I called on him to stop I told him I wanted the stuff re-measured—I came out direct from the office to see him.

The following witnesses were called for Yates.

WILLIAM WEST . I live at Walworth—I have been in Mr. Yates's employment five or six years—on 9th May last I received instructions from Mr. Murray, indoor manager to Mr. Yates, and went to Pardon's, in Wine Office Court, Fleet Street, where I got six or seven bags of shavings—I did not receive a delivery note—the under-foreman waited and took it, and then I went on with the bags to meet Mr. Yates at the City Press—mine was a one-horse van—I got to the City, Press about half-past 8 or 20 minutes to 9—I made up my load there, and drove away by Mr. Yates's direction—he afterwards told me to come back, and told me to unload what I had taken from Collingridge's; I did so—I left in the van the bags I had brought from Pardon's—we clear three or four large places in the City, and we never weigh the rubbish; we always average it—the rubbish sometimes contains everything you can mention, old boots, tin cans, ginger-beer bottles, and everything—we take three or four tons of rubbish to the Newington Vestry every Monday morning.

Cross-examined. I was not called at the police-court—I did not hear Mr. Benny tell Yates that he wanted to have the stuff re-weighed—I stopped when the policeman called to me—I had a hot-headed horse that you can't stop directly; I tried my best to stop—when I got my load I drove away—I did not hear Mr. Yates tell me to drive away—I did not see Mr. Benny there at the time; I did when I came back—my van had no cover to it—I did not bring any delivery note from Pardon's—Mr. Hurst, the tinder-foreman, had it—I was not at the City Press at 20

minutes past 8; I swear that—it was about half-past 8 or 20 minutes to 9 when I arrived there with the small van—the pair-horse van was there driven by Baker—there were six or seven sacks of shavings in my van—I might have had a dozen empty sacks in it; I could not say how many.

JAMES HURST . I am foreman to Mr. Yates—I have been about 12 years in his employ—on 9th May I had to send one van to Pardon's, put the shavings on there, and then go to the City Press to meet the governor—I did not go myself—I did not receive a delivery-note from Pardon's—the carman had it; I did not see it.

HENRY LAWRENCE . I am in the employ of Pardon and Sons, and have been for 25 years—for the last two years I have been manager of the warehouse—Yates comes and buys our waste paper—this (produced) is my writing; it is one of the delivery orders of our firm—on 9th May West, one of Yates's carmen, called at our place—I did not see Yates—West took away some stuff, 6 cwt. 1 qr. 3 lb. of coloured shavings; I won't be sure whether it was in six or seven bags—it was about 8 o'clock—I did not see the van—we never weigh rubbish nor average it; we contract for it whatever it is—Yates gives us 4l. a year and carts it away—our rubbish includes a great number of odds and ends—our firm has done business with Yates 16 or 17 years—he has a very large connection—we have never had any complaint.

Cross-examined. We weigh the stuff that goes away in every case, there may have been an exception, but in every case I was there it was invariably weighed—we weighed this stuff about 8 o'clock—I gave the delivery-note to the carman. (The delivery-note stated the weight to be 6cwt. 1 qr. 3lb. in six bags.)

ALBERT BAKER . I am a carman, and have been in Yates's employ between six and seven years—on 9th May I drove a pair-horse van straight to the City Press, I got there about 20 minutes past 8—the one-horse van arrived there about 20 minutes after; West was driving it, he had seven or eight filled bags at the bottom of his van when he drove up, and two or three dozen empty bags.

Cross-examined. I have not been a witness before in this case—I drove in at-the City Press gates in the usual way; I did not begin to load directly, not till we got to the place where we always load, in Bartholomew Place; I had 20 or 30 bags in my van before the other van came up—I did not hear Mr. Benny say he wanted the stuff reweighed,—I was on the top of the load—I did not know Mr. Benny; I did not see him speaking to Yates.

Re-examined. I was at the Guildhall, but was not called—I was with the two-horse van the whole time; I don't know what took place with the one-horse van; my van was 200 yards away from it.

HERBERT MURRAY . I am indoor manager to Mr. Yates, I have been in his employ five or six years—I gave written instructions on the over night of 9th May to Hurst to give to West in the usual course—goods were brought back from Pardon's, I received the delivery-note—as a rule, rubbish goes by contract, so much a week, sometimes they have to weigh as refuse—a large quantity of miscellaneous articles get into the rubbish-bags—I send a load of refuse every week to the Newington Vestry, I should imagine about 3 tons—it is so bad that Mr. Yates has to allow the vestry the manure to take it away.

Cross-examined. That is the rubbish he separates from the paper—I

know he is in the habit of paying Messrs. Collingridge for the waste paper—we clear waste, shavings, and rubbish, we pay 1s. 3d. a cwt. for rubbish; the price depends upon the quality, we should go and examine it—I saw the van come back with goods from Pardon's that morning, I cannot recollect the time, I should think it would be about half-past 9 or 10 o'clock.

Re-examined. Our place is at Walworth, near the Elephant and Castle, that is about half an hour from Messrs. Collingridge's—1s. 3d. would be a very high price for rubbish paper.

THOMAS RAWLEY . I am postmaster at Beckenham, I attend here on subpoena—for about 12 years I was manager to Messrs. Collingridge, in the warehouse department—I was acquainted with the mode of business in getting rid of the waste-paper; I know that a contract was entered into with Yates—I know shortly after Yates was always grumbling about it; in the first place, about the way the stuff was bagged, and also about the refuse that was packed in it—I have not personally turned over any of those bags; I have seen them filled—besides paper, they contained anything that was in the shop that was to be swept up; I won't say that I saw a dead cat, but I know that a dead cat was there, whether it was put in the bag or not I don't know, it was suddenly missed—I have seen anything and everything that was there put into the bag—the sweepings of the shop with the rubbish was of course not put into the dust-bin—all the time I was there the rubbish was, to the best of my knowledge, averaged; it would be four small bags to the cwt., that would be fair, not only to the customer, but fair all round—shavings were weighed—to the best of my knowledge clean waste was not taken away every time—there might be an interval of two or three months.

Cross-examined. I was of course responsible to my employers for the waste that was taken away; it was my duty to see that a proper return was made for it—there was no question about weighing; I don't know that I received any definite instructions about that—I have seen Mr. Collingridge recently about the matter—I expressed my regret to him that if in any way I had been lax in my duty, and certain errors had crept in—I told him I did not understand the weighing machine; I did not make any excuse—I was asked the question if I had weighed it, and I said no, that I did not understand the weighing machine, and therefore I never did weigh it—Mr. Collingridge never expected me to do it; I said I always left it to Payne to weigh it, because he was the person in trust, he acted as my clerk—I don't think that under the system of average Yates could have taken away a ton more stuff than was on the delivery note.

Re-examined. When I say that Payne always weighed it, I do not include the rubbish, only the shavings—I attended at Guildhall Police Court to give evidence, but was not called.

JOSEPH PARDOE . I am manager in the machine department of Messrs. Bradbury and Co.—I have been in the printing trade many years, and in the service of that firm 39 years—I am acquainted with the mode of getting rid of waste-paper—I know what is technically called rubbish—we never weigh it at our place; we did years ago, but when paper became so cheap we have given it away—Yates has dealt with our firm seven or eight years—I have never known a dishonest act of him, he was always a straightforward, honest man.

JOHN RUSSELL . I am a waste-paper dealer, of 28, Clothfair—I have been in that business about 24 years—I have known Yates about 20 years—on 9th May I saw one of his vans, a one-horse one, pass my place, I don't know who was driving it, it was one of his carmen—I noticed several bags of paper in it, I did not notice anything else—it was when I was opening the shop, about half-past 8—afterwards Yates called me to Bartholomew Close—I heard a conversation between him and Benny—Yates offered to take the bags off if he knew they were his shavings; Benny refused—during the time I have known Yates he has had the reputation of an honest, straightforward man.

Cross-examined. He said in Mr. Benny's presence that he had got the shavings from Judd's and Pardon's I believe, both, or from Judd's or Pardon's, he mentioned both names—my premises are about 100 or 200 yards from Messrs. Collingridge's—I have never collected waste-paper from their premises—I did not hear Benny ask Yates to stop and have the stuff weighed; this was after the stuff was unloaded, after the policeman had come there.

By the COURT. He offered to take off the bags; a few remained on the van—this was about 11 o'clock.

WALTER BEARD . I am a solicitor, of 10, Basinghall Street—I con ducted Yates's defence at the Police-court—the witnesses were there every time by my direction under subpoena—at the end of the case for the prosecution I asked the Alderman for an expression of opinion, and the witnesses were not called—I exercised my discretion in not calling them.

JOHN JAMES BENNY (Re-examined). The small van left with the seven or eight bags something after half-past 10, between that and 11—up to that time from the time of my speaking to Yates it had been within my sight.

Other witnesses deposed to Yates's good character.

GUILTY on Fifth and Sixth Counts .—The Jury expressed a wish that a lenient view might be taken on account of the good character of both prisoners.— Judgment respited.

NEW COURT.—Tuesday July 3rd, 1888.

Before Mr. Common Sergeant.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-620
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

620. CHARLES LEBRO (40) and RICHARD PARRY (43) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. ARTHUR GILL Prosecuted.

ELIZA WISE . My husband keeps the Oxford and Cambridge Hotel, Kew Bridge Road—on the evening of May 25th I served Lebro with half an ounce of tobacco—he gave me this florin—I saw that it was bad, and said "You have given me a bad two-shilling piece, have you anymore?"—he said "No, I got it from the station in change for a half-sovereign"—I gave it to Rice.

WILLIAM RICE (Policeman T 31). I was called, and Mrs. Wise handed me this coin, and said that the prisoner had tendered it—I asked him if he had any more about him—he said "No," and produced two good florins—I took him to the station—he was taken before the Brent

ford Magistrates, remanded till June 2nd, and then discharged—I asked him his address—he said "I live nowhere."

CHARLES BROOKS (Police Sergeant T 3). On June 2nd I was on duty in plain clothes in White Stile Road, and saw the prisoners come out of the Ealing Road—I watched them; they were loitering about—I followed them into the Windsor Road, and saw two of them sitting on the grass—I went to the Globe public-house, and spoke to the landlord—the man who has escaped was standing opposite the Globe—he beckoned to the other two, and they all went down Windmill Road to Boston Road—I saw Allen, who I knew, and spoke to him—he went in front of me, following the men, and I followed him, and went into a field and concealed myself, and saw the three men come into the road some distance up, and look back and return, and turn down Boston Park Road to Hampton Road, where Lebro handed something to Parry, who crossed the road to Mrs. Biddle's shop—I did not see him go in, but I saw him come out, and took him in charge, and left him with Allen while I went after the other two—when they saw me they ran, and I ran and caught Lebro, and told him the charge—he said "You have not seen me do anything"—I said "I have seen quite enough"—I found on Parry two half-crowns, one shilling, and one sixpence, good, and fivepence, and on Lebro two florins, two shillings, three sixpences, three threepenny pieces, and twopence—Mrs. Biddle gave me this shilling.

Cross-examined by Parry. You did not tell me that you had been made a fool of.

CHARLES ALLEN . I live at Market Place, Brentford—on 2nd June, a little after noon, I met Sergeant Brooks in Windmill Lane, and I saw the prisoners and another man—followed them down one road, and Brooks down another—Parry left the other two and went into Mrs. Biddle's shop—he came out, and Mrs. Biddle came out and spoke to me, and I spoke to Sergeant Brooks, who took Parry and gave him into my custody—he said "The other man gave me the money, and made a fool of me."

Cross-examined by Parry. I saw you come out—you did not attempt to hurry away—you said that Lebro wanted to make away with you, and put you away.

CAROLINE BIDDLE . My husband is a greengrocer, of 36, Hamilton Road—on 2nd June, between 12 and 1 o'clock, Parry came in for two bundles of radishes, price twopence—he handed me a shilling—I gave him a sixpence and fourpence change, and he left—directly he had gone I noticed that the shilling was bad—I went outside and saw Allen, and said in Parry's presence "He has given me a bad shilling," and showed it to him—this is it.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to Her Majesty's Mint; this florin and shilling are counterfeit.

Witness for Parry.

MERTON CHICK (Detective Officer T). Parry gave me the name of the man who was with him—I found nothing false in what Parry told me.

Lebro's Defence. I did not give this man the shilling; what I gave him was half an ounce of tobacco; the man who is not in custody gave him the shilling.

Parry produced a written defence stating that the third man, Charles Galloway, gave him the shilling and asked him to buy some radishes, and

that he did not know it was bad, and told the policeman he had been made a fool of, and his not attempting to escape was a proof of his innocence; and that Galloway had threatened to get him into trouble, as he was going to inform against him for making bad money, Galloway having been recently liberated from prison, where he had been for a similar offence.

CHARLES ALLEN (Re-examined). Parry said "That man" had given it to him, pointing to Lebro, who was within two yards of him, but he did not call him by name.

GUILTY . **— Twelve Months' Hard Labour each.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-621
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

621. GEORGE EDWARDS (35) and JAMES BROWN (30) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.

CHARLES AVANT . I am potman at the George and Guy, Brick Lane, Spitalfields—on 18th June, about 11 p.m., the prisoners came in together—Brown called for two half pints of four ale, and gave me a shilling—I gave him the change, and put the coin on the rack, where there was no other shilling—they drank their beer, and about 10 minutes afterwards Edwards called for two more half pints—I cannot say who paid, but I saw a shilling lying there; I took it up and saw that it was bad, but I gave them the change because there was nobody else in the bar—I told them it was bad, and Edwards said to Brown "It is a bad shilling"—Brown walked outside—I called the barman down, kept the shilling in my hand, and gave it to the constable—I went out of the bar, and when I returned, five minutes afterwards, the barman had given Edwards in charge—about half an hour afterwards I saw Brown, and gave him in charge—he said nothing.

Cross-examined by Edwards. You picked up the change, and I don't see why you should pick up another man's change.

By the COURT. I think Brown had had a drop of drink; he was drunk when I took him half an hour afterwards.

FREDERICK BANFIELD . I am barman at the George and Guy—on 18th June, about 11.10, I saw Edwards there, and Mr. Avant showed me a bad shilling—I said to Edwards "Do you know what you gave the young man?"—he said "No; I was standing outside and met a man, who asked me to come in and have a drink; I know nothing whatever of him"—I asked him where the man was—he said "He has gone outside"—I sent for a constable, and said to Edwards "Is this the first drink you had?"—he said "No"—I said "What did they give the first time?"—he said "A shilling"—I looked on the rack and found a bad shilling, and kept it in my hand till the constable came, and gave it to him—Edwards was sober—I did not see Brown.

WILLIAM COLLINSON (Policeman H R 6). I was called to the George and Guy, and found Edwards in the bar—Banfield said that Edwards and another man had passed two bad coins—I said "You hear what the barman says"—Edwards said to me "You have known me many years, Mr. Collinson, and never knew me do anything wrong—I said "I don't know anything about this case; I think you will have to go to the station"—he said "I was asked to come in and have a drink with some man, and we had two half pints, and this man paid for it; I do not know what he gave in payment"—Banfield looked on the rack and found another shilling—I said that they were both bad—Edwards said

nothing about that—I searched him in the bar, and found a shilling, two sixpences, and eightpence—I took him to the station—Mr. Banfield gave me these two shillings (produced)—about three-quarters of an hour after wards Brown was given into my custody; he was drunk—I searched him, and found threepence.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to the Mint—these coins are bad, and from the same mould.

Edwards in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence said that a man took him in to have some drink; that Its neither paid or took the change, and that Brown was not the man who took him there.

Browns Defence. I went into the Three Cranes, and had a drink, and the constable took me—I am innocent.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-622
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; No Punishment > sentence respited

Related Material

622. WILLIAM PAINTER (19) and JOHN KELLY (18) , Bur glary in the dwelling-house of Emily Louisa Nott, and stealing a pair of shoes, two jackets, and a skirt, her property.

MR. DE MICHELE Prosecuted.

EMILY LOUISA NOTT . I am a widow, and keep a draper's shop in Mile End Road—my assistants sleep at 22, Frimley Street, adjoining—I went there on June 1st a little after 12 o'clock, and found the front door open—I shut it, and held it by the knocker and handle—I heard two men come down the stairs, and somebody tried to open the door from the inside, pulling against me, but I held it till a constable came—I remained at the door, and did not see the prisoners till they were at the station—I found on the bed a costume, two skirts, two jackets, and a pair of shoes—they had been removed from pegs in the room, and all placed together—I had seen them safe between 5 and 6 p.m.—I had given the two keys to Miss Royston between 9 and 9.30.

KATE ROYSTON . I am an assistant to Mrs. Nott, and sleep at 22, Frimley Street—she gave me two keys a little after 9 o'clock, and I closed the door and locked it, and went back and tried it—it was fastened—I simply pulled it to and it looked itself—I am quite sure nobody was inside—I went upstairs at 9 o'clock, and washed my hands, and stayed about 10 minutes—I was in the room where these things were; they were safe on the pegs at 9.10.

GEORGE MANN (Policeman J 94). On June 1st, about 10.30 p.m., I was called to 22, Frimley Street, and found the two prisoners concealed under the staircase on a level with the hall door—Painter was partly in a packing-case and Kelly was lying on a shelf—he could not be seen till a light was brought—I took them in custody—Painter said "All right; we will go quietly"—going to the station he said "I was pushed in by a gang of others; we were running through the court, and were pushed in"—Painter gave his address, 68, Coutts Road, Bow—that is a mile and a half off.

GEORGE PAYNE (Policeman H 414). I took Kelly—he was sitting on a shelf—I turned my light on him and said "What are you doing there?"—he said "All right, governor; I will go quietly"—I searched Painter, and found on him a key, a knife, and a bent horse nail, which is used for picking locks—it would pick a door lock—there were two locks, one above the other.

Painter in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence said

that he was pushed into the house by eight others, one of whom came out of the house.

GUILTY. †—PAINTER.— Six Months' Hard Labour. KELLY received a good character.Judgment respited.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-623
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

623. FRANK HALDERS (35) PLEADED GUILTY ** to unlawfully converting to his own use 40l., entrusted to him as an agent.— Six Months' Hard Labour.

FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, June 3rd, 1888.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-624
VerdictNot Guilty > directed

Related Material

624. ARTHUR LIONEL LIMMER, Feloniously forging and uttering an endorsement to an order for the payment of 2l. 8s. with intent to defraud.

MR. FULTON Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON Defended.

GEORGE WILLIAM ACKHURST . I am a corn and flour factor and carry on business in co-partnership with others under the title and style of James Limmer and Son—we purchased the business from the trustees in liquidation of James Limmer, the prisoner's father, in 1883—I had been engaged in the old firm as a salaried servant—I took the prisoner as traveller on commission about twelve months ago—his duties were to call on customers and take orders, and we made an arrangement with him to fix a certain price, and he should have half the profits above the fixed cost price after deducting the working expenses—we have some credit customers, but the prisoner's business was to be for cash—he had no authority to endorse cheques on behalf of the firm;—in March last he was travelling for us—it was his duty to render accounts of the business he did; he always sent them in the same evening or the first thing next morning, so that we could deliver them—these are the return sheets he sent to me in the ordinary course of business from the 26th March to the end of May—there is no record in this of the receipt on 26th March of 2l. 8s. from Mr. Davey—this is the only way he accounted for the business in writing at the end of each day—there was no other way of accounting—he made a return of the orders he got; we sent out the bills if there was credit from them—on several occasions the prisoner has received money and would forward it on with the orders or let it run till Saturday when he came for his commission—he had no authority to receive money—the carmen were to receive money on the delivery of the goods—we drew his attention on several occasions to his receiving money—in consequence of what I heard I sent in my account to Mr. Davey, who handed me these two documents and this cheque—the endorsement to the cheque is in the prisoner's writing—in consequence of that I applied for a warrant and caused the prisoner to be arrested on the charge of forging the endorsement on the cheque.

Cross-examined. I have known him about sixteen years—during the last twelve months he has been in my employment—he has got orders, not money; but he has received money against our wishes—it has come to our knowledge afterwards, we have not authorised him—sometimes he paid it in on Saturday—the first Saturday it occurred we requested him not to do it again—it occurred again once or twice after we had told him about it.

Re-examined. I am only prosecuting for forgery, not embezzlement.

The COURT considered that in the absence of a distinct prohibition there would be implied authority to endorse the name of the firm in which, from the fact of his receiving half the profits on his orders, he was a partner, and directed the Jury to acquit him.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-625
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

625. JOHN TWINER (40) , Unlawfully attempting to commit a burglary in the dwelling-house of Charlotte Bromhead, with, intent to steal therein.

MR. SANDERS Prosecuted.

JOSEPH JESSON (Policeman F 334). About half-past 3 on the morning of 20th May I was in Palace Gardens Terrace, Kensington—I saw the prisoner loitering about, and watched him—I saw him enter the gardens of Nos. 60, 62, and 64—he came out and went into No. 54, and up the front door steps there—he remained there some time—I ran along the centre of the road, and when I got up the road I saw him standing on the dining-room window-sill—the window was pulled right down from the top—when he saw me he jumped down, and ran down the street—I caught him, and asked him what he was doing there—he said "I went there to sit down"—I asked him what he was doing in the other gardens—he said "I went there to find a place to sit down, as I have been hunted about by you fellows all day long"—I took him to the station, searched, and found on him 5s. silver, two pocket-knives, a razor, a pair of scissors, and a comb—I had passed the house 20 minutes before, and then noticed the window was quite closed.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were on the window-sill when I came—you jumped down, and I pursued you to the bottom of the road.

MARY JONES . I am parlourmaid to Mrs. Bromhead, of 54, Palace Gardens Terrace—on 19th May I went to bed about a quarter to 11—I left all the windows shut and fastened, I believe—I had put up the shutters to the dining-room window at half-past 10—the window was then closed—I was called up by the constable at 4 o'clock in the morning—I then went and found the window open—it is almost level with the front door—any one can get on the window-sill from the steps of the front door—there were articles in the room.

WILLIAM ROBEBT ALLISON (Police Inspector F). I examined this house on the morning of 20th May, and found footmarks on the coping and window-sill of the front parlour window—the window was right down, and there were prints of a right hand on the dust on the right-hand top sash—the prisoner said at the station "Iwas sitting on the steps near the window when I got up from the steps."

The prisoner said he was merely wandering about the streets looking for a place to sit down, as he had no home to go to.

GUILTY **.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-626
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

626. MORRIS CALLMAN (28) PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments for forging and uttering requests for the delivery of cigarettes.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-627
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

627. JORDAN SMITH (52) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Achille Cosenza, and stealing a cake.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-628
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

628. HENRY HOLMES (15) to attempting to have unlawful carnal knowledge of Rose Aldridge, a girl under 13 years, and to indecently assaulting her.— Six Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-629
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

629. JOE ANDERSON (19) to receiving a clock, a case of mathematical instruments and a pipe, the goods of Beadon Banks.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-630
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

630. WILLIAM SMOOTHY (26) to two indictments for stealing and receiving a quantity of dressing and tooth combs, after a conviction of felony in this Court in November, 1882.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-631
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

631. CHARLES WEST** (25) to stealing an overcoat and other articles, the goods of Arthur Peakall, after a conviction of felony in March, 1887; also to breaking and entering the counting-house of William Theobald, and stealing a case of drawing instruments and other goods; to breaking and entering the counting house of Arthur James Izard, and stealing a rifle and clock; and to breaking and entering the counting-house of James Michael Finn, and stealing three handkerchiefs and four scarves.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-632
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

632. CHARLES GREEN (21) , Stealing a watch from the person of August Hensul.

MR. SANDERS Prosecuted.

AUGUST HENSUL . I am a master mariner—I live at Millwall—on the afternoon of 24th May I was walking along Royal Mint Street alone; my coat was unbuttoned—I was wearing a watch and chain—the prisoner came up alongside of me, looked at my face, grabbed at my chain, and snatched the watch off it and went off—I ran after him; as I did so he threw something away at an angle of about 45 degrees backwards—I did not notice that; I heard something clattering—I still went after him, calling "Stop thief!"—I saw a railway guard stop him—I did not lose sight of the prisoner from the time I saw him take my watch till I saw him stopped—I am quite sure he was the man that took my watch—he was detained till an officer came—he then said "I have not taken your watch; I have got a watch myself"—I have not got the watch.

By the JURY. I am sure I saw the prisoner take my watch—he looked into my face, and ran away, and I could not be mistaken because there was no one else to intercept him.

CARL COPE . I am a Custom House officer—on this afternoon I was going up Royal Mint Street—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I saw the prisoner running away from the prosecutor, who was following him, not far behind him—he turned down a passage—I took up the chase with the prosecutor, and going through the passage another man ran in front of the prosecutor with the intention of intercepting him—other people were in front, and I saw the prisoner pass something to some one who ran alongside of him—I went on—a railway porter stopped the prisoner, and he struggled desperately to get away—the porter did not seem to care to have anything to do with the case, and he handed him over to the prosecutor, and I gave him assistance, and we held him till the constable came—when I first saw the prisoner there was no one running in front of him.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was coming from my duties at the Docks—I ran down the court and saw the porter catch you—I did not lose sight of you for one instant—I did not say I saw you pass the watch I said I saw you pass something to somebody.

MICHAEL HAMPSHIRE (Policeman H 477). I was on duty, and saw the prisoner being held by the prosecutor and the last witness—he was given into my charge for stealing a gold watch—the prisoner said "The prosecutor

has made a mistake; there was another man running, and I ran too, but I was stopped by a railway porter; the prosecutor came up, and gave me in custody for stealing his watch"—I did not see another man running.

The prisoner in his defence said he tried to stop the man, but could not run. A witness gave the prisoner a good character.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-633
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

633. MARY CARLESS** (46) PLEADED GUILTY to obtaining by false pretences from Valentine Curry Elwess 10l., and to attempting to obtain money from Lord Churchill, with intent to defraud, after a conviction of obtaining by false pretences at this Court in March, 1884, in the name of Rebecca Ward.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-634
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

634. WILLIAM STEVENS (22) to stealing a gelding, barrow, and set of harness, the goods of Mr. Harrison; also to stealing a gelding, van, and set of harness, the goods of Samuel Daniels, and to stealing a mare, gig, and set of harness, the goods of Jonathan Miles, after a conviction of felony at this Court in August, 1886.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

OLD COURT.—Wednesday, July 4th, 1888.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-635
VerdictGuilty > insane
SentenceImprisonment > insanity

Related Material

635. CHARLES LATHAM (30) was indicted for and charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the willful murder of Mary Newman.

MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted; MR. ERNEST BEARD Defended.

ELIZABETH LEE . I am the wife of Walter Lee, a cabdriver, and live at 53, Drummond Crescent, St. Pancras—we occupy the back room ground floor—we let the back kitchen to Mary Newman about five months ago—she and her two children occupied it at first—one of them was Jane Newman, about 13—the prisoner came there about four months and a half afterwards; I can't say the date—it was after she had been there a fortnight—Mrs. Salmon occupied the front kitchen with her son Edward, who is about 28—one night, about three weeks before this occurrence, I heard a screaming in the back kitchen—I went down, and saw Mrs. Newman bleeding from the mouth, and she had a black eye—the prisoner was there—I sent for a policeman, who came—the prisoner wanted to go into the front kitchen, where Edward Salmon was—the constable refused to allow him, and he took him to the station—I went with them, and Mrs. Newman too—she there refused to charge him, and he was released—he went back to the room, but Mrs. Newman went away—she remained away two of three nights—the prisoner remained there—in consequence of his state I gave information to the relieving officer and two doctors—they examined him, and he was taken to the workhouse the same day—after that Mrs. Newman returned, and at the end of the week the prisoner returned—several days before he went to the workhouse I heard him sharpening a knife on the step, and he said "I will cut her throat"—I did not see the knife—after he returned from the workhouse Mrs. Newman went away again for two or three days—on the Saturday before she died Salmon told me that the prisoner had given him a black eye—I did not hear anything of the quarrel—that night I would not let the prisoner in, because I thought there would be a disturbance—early on the morning of 16th May he came back and lived in the house

with the deceased—on the evening of 19th May, about 7, I was in my room—as I was going from one room to the other I saw the girl Jane Newman crying in the passage—in consequence of what she said I went down to their room—the door was shut—on going in I saw the deceased lying on the bed bleeding, and the prisoner with his right hand under her head, and his left hand at her throat—he had something in his hand, but the palm of his hand hid the handle, but I am certain it was a knife—the deceased said "Mrs. Lee, he is killing me"—I caught hold of the collar of his coat and said "You murderous villain, you are killing her"—he turned round and looked very strange at me—he did not say a word—he had something in his hand, and was digging at her throat—I tried to pull him off her, but could not, and I ran upstairs and called Mr. Butcher, who was in the front parlour, and he ran down with William Mulford—I ran over to Mrs. Newman's sister, and when I came back I saw the prisoner scuffling with Mr. Butcher in the kitchen—I fetched Kelly, the constable, and I followed the prisoner, and he and Butcher and the deceased all came up together to my room—the prisoner then left—I followed him out—he went to No. 3, Charlton Street, which was not very far off—he stood by a butcher's stall there—Kelly came out of my house, and I showed him the prisoner—the prisoner went into the Coffee House public-house, and two constables took him to the station—when I got back to my house I saw Mrs. Newman in my parlour—she had a cloth round her neck, and Dr. Llewellyn was attending to her, and Mr. Butcher—she was removed to the hospital—she always went by the name of Mary Newman, and the prisoner as Latham.

Cross-examined. I did not know till lately that they had lived together 14 years—he was at times in the habit of drinking to excess; that was not very often; mostly on a Saturday night after he had finished at the meat-stall—he was attached to the meat-stall—he acted strangely this last time—on 30th April he was so bad that I was frightened—on 19th May when I went into the back kitchen he did not appear to recognise me—he did not seem to take any notice of me—he looked strange at me—he did not appear to know me—he did not appear to notice anything—he did not appear the least to understand what he was doing, he took no heed of it—the deceased was a well-behaved woman—she worked very hard—there is no ground for saying that she misbehaved herself with young Salmon—as far as I know no man visited her—on 19th May the prisoner came up to the parlour, and asked me if I had seen his brother Charley—I said "No"—he seemed to think I had him concealed somewhere—he seemed quite strange that afternoon—his own name is Charley—at the time I heard him sharpening the knife on the step he was doing it quite openly; he was talking to himself—I have heard him do that on more occasions in the yard when he was strange—I have heard him talking about a policeman getting over the yard—I have not heard him say anything about young Salmon, only that night when he wanted to get into the room, when the policeman was there—on these occasions he appeared very odd in his manner—he went into the wash house in a state of nudity—that was before he went into the workhouse—I don't know the date.

Re-examined. It was early in the morning—the washhouse is a few steps up from the kitchen—he was quite sober then—that was a day or two before he went into the infirmary—he has two brothers, Henry and

Frederick—I saw the prisoner with the mother on the Saturday a little after 5 o'clock; they came in together—it was about 7 o'clock in the day that I saw the deceased on the bed—I had seen him before that about 5 o'clock—he seemed all right done—he did not seem to have any drink in him—it was then he asked if I had got his brother Charley there.

JOSEPH BUTCHER . I live at 53, Drummond Crescent, in the front parlour on the ground floor—I am the landlord of the house—I knew the prisoner and Mrs. Newman occupied the back kitchen, and the Salmons the front—on this Saturday I saw the prisoner pass the window while I was having my tea, between 6.30 and 7 o'clock—he was going towards Somers Town way—I did not see him return to the house—on that evening Mrs. Lee came into the parlour and told me to run downstairs instantly—I did so, and went into the prisoner's room—Mr. Mulford followed me down; he was in the room with me—the door was wide open—directly I went in I saw the deceased was lying across the bed—the prisoner was kneeling with his right knee on her stomach, and his left foot on the floor, and he was digging away at her throat with his right hand—I could not see whether he had anything in his hand; it seemed to me as if he had made the wound, and he had got his fingers in trying to tear it open—I at once laid hold of him by the back of the neck—I could not pull him off by myself, he was too heavy for me—Mulford came into the room at the same time, and he assisted me, and we pulled him off of her—neither if us spoke to him—when we pulled him off she got up off the bed—I saw that she was bleeding from the throat—the prisoner was struggling with me—the female went out at the door—I fell against something and the prisoner got away from me, and I saw nothing more of him till he was in the station—when I got upstairs I found Mrs. Newman in my room sitting on a chair—the doctor was not there then—the prisoner never spoke to me.

Cross-examined. I could not say that he used to drink to excess; I never saw him the worse for liquor—I know when he was taken to the infirmary—I could not say that he had been drinking then, but he seemed strange n his manner—I might have seen him a day or two after he returned from the infirmary; he seemed very little better than before—that was about 8th or 9th May—I saw him in the street—when I pulled him off the deceased he turned and looked at me, but said nothing—I could not say whether he recognised who I was—I should say he knew what he was doing.

JANE NEWMAN . I am a little over 13—I live at 53, Drummond Crescent, with my mother, and father, the prisoner—he used to live there—on this Saturday I was in the room with my mother and the prisoner—he was standing with his back against the fire—my mother was sitting in a chair—they were not talking at all—nothing was said by either of them—then father got hold of a knife, and did that to mother—he took the knife off the dresser—it was a black handled one; it was one of the knives in use at meals—he put the knife across mother's throat while she was sitting on the chair—mother halloaed out "Don't do it"—I ran upstairs and called Mrs. Lee, and she went down—before father did this he said that Salmon broke mother's door open, and went in, and did something wrong while he went out, and he said to him "You had no business to do what you have done"—he swore he would kill her one of

these times, "I will do for you one of these times"—that was a long while before he did this.

JOHN KELLY (Policeman Y 285). On Saturday, 19th May, about half past 7, Mrs. Lee spoke to me, and I went to 53, Drummond Crescent, and saw the deceased in Butcher's room sitting on a chair—I sent for a doctor, and then went in search of the prisoner—he was pointed out to me as he was entering the Coffee House public-house, about 400 yards from 53, Drummond Crescent—I followed him in, and saw him standing at the counter—I noticed that both his hands were covered with blood—I told him I should take him into custody for violently assaulting his wife—he replied "Yes, all right"—I took him to the station—he there made a statement, which Inspector Palmer took down in writing—he appeared to me to be perfectly sober—he walked all right to the station, quite steadily, without any stagger or falter whatever—on the way he said "Let go my arm, I will walk quietly."

Cross-examined. He did not appear strange in his manner—I could not see anything wrong or anything about his manner till he made the statement—his statement was rather rambling; he seemed rather strange about his eyes; he looked rather wild about the eyes—he made no attempt to escape.

CHARLES AUSTIN (Police Inspector Y). On the night of 19th May I was on duty at Somers Town Police-station—about 10 minutes to 8 the prisoner was brought in there by P.C. Kelly—I asked what the charge was—Kelly said "For cutting his wife's throat with a knife"—the prisoner said "Yes, for cutting my wife's throat with a knife"—I searched him, and told him I should have to detain him—he appeared to be very strange in his manner—he rolled his eyes about, and he was very flushed—from what I heard I at once went to 53, Drummond Crescent—I went down to the bedroom—it was in disorder; the bedding was all rolled up on the bedstead—I found this table knife doubled up between a pillow on the floor—it had on it marks of blood and hair, and about an inch of the point was broken off—there were three separate pools of blood on the floor—I heard that the woman had been taken to the hospital—I went to the hospital, and found that she was dead—I then returned to the station and charged the prisoner—Inspector Palmer read over the charge to the prisoner—it was for the wilful murder of Mary Newman at 53, Drummond Crescent—Palmer then cautioned the prisoner—he said "Any statement you might wish to make will be taken down by me, and might be used in evidence against you"—he then began to make the statement, which Palmer wrote down—he put no questions to him—he made it voluntarily—it was read over to him—he said it was correct, and he signed it, and I and Palmer also—this is it. (Read: "I had cause. I could not go outside my place without the man who lives in the next room was in my room with my missis. I could not go to bed without this man getting in at the window. I have heard that they have chloroformed me and taken liberties with me, but I know nothing about it. Mr. Dod and Cobb, I have heard that they have taken a liberty with me, and have had my missis all over the place. On Saturday night, in Mr. Lee's room, along with Mrs. Lee, I was took queer. One night I went to the hospital after the house was shut. I told my missis to lock the door. I tried it and it was locked. I came back to my room. My room was open, and this chap ran out into the front kitchen. A night after that I went to have

half a pint of ale at the Coffee House. I was not above five minutes gone. I came back, my door was open, I saw a constable jump over the yard wall, next to where I live. I hit my missis, and asked what she had done such things for. I then went out, and heard her halloaing down the cabyard 'Let me be, there is my husband.'") I know Inspector Dod and Sergeant Cobb quite well. They both belonged to the Criminal Investigation Department at that time.

Cross-examined. I first saw the prisoner at the station at 10 minutes to 8 o'clock—he did not appear to be under the influence of drink then—I hardly knew what to make of him when he came in—he seemed rather strange; he never spoke; it was from his look, and he seemed to throw himself about very loosely—I did not know at the time whether it might be the effects of drink or not—I sent for the divisional surgeon, Dr. Thompson.

JOHN THOMPSON . I am surgeon to the Y Division—on 19th May, about half-past 10, I was fetched to the Somers Town Police-station for the purpose of examining the prisoner—from his appearance and conversation I was of opinion he had been drinking that day—I asked him the question—he replied he had, but not very much—he said he might have had about 10 half-pints of ale that evening—I laid "What else?"—he said he did not remember that he had anything else but ale—I said "Perhaps it might have been a little more than that"—he said "Well, I could not tell; it might have been"—his breath was very offensive, as if he had been drinking—his eyeballs were congested; the conjunctiva covering the eyeballs were red—his face looked bloated, and he sat there apparently not at all concerned, or feeling the position he was placed in—I said "Are you aware what you are charged with?"—he said "Yes; but I could not help giving it to her, for she was always nagging at me," and then he gave me almost word for word the statement that was taken down by the inspector—he said nothing else—I can't say that I knew him before.

Cross-examined. I should not say that he had been drinking very heavily, but I should say sufficiently to deaden his sensibility—I did not see any symptoms of delirium tremens at that time—it did not occur to me to examine him any further—I have formed an opinion since—I was at the station on another case the following day, Sunday, and I saw him then—he had just eaten a good dinner, and appeared very much better in his condition.

By the COURT. There was no sign about him then of any strangeness in manner, look, or words—I only saw him once on the Sunday—I did not see him after that.

JOHN MUTRRAY LLEWELLYN . I live at 82, Charlton Street—on Saturday night, the 19th, I went to 53, Drummond Crescent—I got there about 20 minutes to 8—I found the deceased in a chair in the front parlour; she was in a dying condition—I saw the wounds on her neck—I bandaged them up; they were cuts and stabs—I sent her off to the University Hospital—I was present at the post-mortem on the 22nd—I found there were nine wounds on the neck and face—one was a wound laying the jaw bare on the right side, and there was a wound on the left; that was really the killing wound, about an inch and a half below the left ear, that extended past the carotid, and had half severed the internal jugular vein—that caused her death—it notched one of the

vertebrae—the other seven wounds were more superficial—there were two wounds on the right hand, between the thumb and forefinger, and one on the left; that would be from her catching hold of the knife—they were all such wounds as would probably be inflicted with an ordinary table knife—it must have been done with great strength—I saw the piece of broken knife found.

GEORGE PATTEN (Policeman Y R 25). On Saturday night, 19th May, I took the deceased to the University Hospital from 53, Drummond Crescent—she never spoke all the way; she died about ten minutes after she got to the hospital.

SIDNEY HOLDER . I was house surgeon at University Hospital—on this Saturday night I saw the deceased within ten minutes after she was admitted—I found this point of a knife lying on her left breast, just under her left breast, lying on her skin—I was in Court when Mr. Llewellyn was examined; his description of the wounds is correct—the woman was between 40 and 50 years of age—the cause of death was hemorrhage from the wound.

EDWARD SALMON . I am a labourer, and live at 53, Drummond Crescent—I occupy the front kitchen with my mother—I only knew the prisoner by living in the house—I did not know him personally before he came to live there, and I did not know him then—I recollect something occurring between 12.30 and 1 o'clock when I was in bed—I cannot fix the exact date—I remember the prisoner being taken to the work house—he broke my door in between 2.30 and 12.45 in the morning—he came just inside the room, and said "You vagabond, you have been in my room again"—my mother was in the room—I said "I have not been in your room"—I had not been in in my life—he then left the room—I saw him again some time after he came from the station, the same night—he was in the passage; he said "You vagabond, I mean to do for you before long"—he came into my room several times after he came from the station—on Saturday, May 12th, about a week before Mrs. Newman died, about 6.45 at night, I was coming down Drummond Crescent, and the prisoner came behind me and gave me a blow in the eye, and said "Oh, it is you, you vagabond, is it?"—I got up as well as I could, and I had three rounds with him, and he said "I will do for you before long"—we fought three rounds, and then he went away—on Saturday, 19th May, about 4.30 or 5 o'clock, I saw him washing himself in the sink—I did not speak to him; he spoke to me—he said "What are you looking for?"—I said "I am looking for my mother"—he said "No, Ted, I have not seen your mother to-day"—I did not see anything strange in him—I have only been in his room once, and that was the week after the murder when Mrs. Lee asked me to clean the room out—there is no truth in the suggestion that there was any impropriety between me and the deceased.

CHARLES SHERIDAN (Policeman Y 493). On Friday morning, 27th April, I was called to 53, Drummond Crescent, about 12.40 in the morning—I went down the stairs, and there saw the prisoner and Mrs. Newman struggling together—the prisoner was on the top of her—she was bleeding from the left side of the face and mouth—I said "Will you charge him?"—she said "Yes I will"—he said "It is all very well; I went out to have a glass of ale, and on my returning I saw a policeman go over the back wall; I cannot go out a moment but there is some man with my wife"—she said "It is false; he does not know what he

is talking about"—I then took him outside the room—he wanted me to fetch another man from the front kitchen, and said "I want that man taken as well as myself"—he said that man had been with his wife—he did not say when—I did not notice that the door of that room had been broken—I took the prisoner to the station—Mrs. Newman was there; she refused to charge him, and he was released—the prisoner seemed to me to be suffering from a severe bout of drinking.

CHARLES DOD (Police Inspector). I know the prisoner—I knew him before this matter occurred—I did not know Mrs. Newman—nothing whatever took place between us.

FREDERICK COBB (Police Sergeant). I knew the prisoner before the 19th May, and he knew me—I did not know Mrs. Newman—nothing ever took place between her and me.

WILLIAM JAMES MACFARLANE . I am a registered medical practitioner, and am assistant to Dr. Thompson, the parish doctor—on 30th April, about half-past 11 in the morning, I went to 53, Drummond Crescent, with the relieving officer—I there saw the prisoner in the back kitchen lying on the bed—from what I saw of him I believed he was suffering from delirium tremens—I ordered his removal to the workhouse—I wrote out a certificate at the time as suffering from delirium tremens—I only saw him once—I don't think he was the worse for drink that morning; but it was from previous drinking—I came to the conclusion that he was suffering from delirium tremens from his excited look, and from the history he gave me—he said he had been drinking heavily lately.

Cross-examined. I don't think it was a very bad attack.

WALTER DUNLOP . I am medical officer of St. Pancras workhouse—on 30th April, about half-past 2 in the afternoon, the prisoner was brought there—I saw him, he was then suffering from an attack of delirium tremens produced by excessive drinking—he was excited—I sent him to the insane ward—the day after, May 1st, he was much quieter, and on May 2nd he was quite well as far as the delirium tremens went—he remained there until 7th May—on Saturday, the 5th, he asked to be discharged—I told him he would be discharged on Monday, the 7th—after the 2nd May his conduct was good; he worked scrubbing the floor, and he assisted the helpless patients from the 2nd till the day of his discharge—he was discharged well on the 7th.

Cross-examined. If he took to excessive drinking after that he would be liable to a sudden return of delirium tremens, and if so his state of mind might be such that he would not fully appreciate the nature of the act he did.

Re-examined. Taking to drink would bring on the state in which I saw him on the 30th, by leaving off drink he would get right—delirium tremens is apt to return by excessive drinking.

PHILIP FRANCIS GILBERT . I am surgeon to Her Majesty's prison at Holloway, where the prisoner has been confined since the 21st of May—I have seen him many times since, and have had an opportunity of forming an opinion as to his mental state—I have seen him almost daily—my opinion is that he is now in his right mind to a great extent, and to some extent not—he has got hallucinations—he still persists in the idea that he saw a man jumping over the wall and that he heard voices—his behaviour in prison has been very good—part of the time he has been in

the infirmary—he was wellbehaved, obeyed the rules, and conducted himself well.

Cross-examined. I have heard the evidence as to his drinking bouts—I have heard that he suffered from delirium tremens, and also about the hallucinations and delusions—that might keep on for some time, and if he was suffering from this state he might not fully appreciate the nature of any act that he committed; I mean if he had these delusions he would not know at all times what he was doing.

Re-examined. The delusion that some man had intimacy with the woman would probably induce him to revenge himself upon her—it would certainly render him suspicious—he would know that he was killing her, and he would know that what he was doing was wrong—if he had these delusions he might do this deed, and he would probably know he was not doing right; still, he would be insane, because of the delusions.

By the COURT. I define a delusion as a belief in something that does not exist—so far as his confinement in gaol is concerned he has not done one single irrational act—since he has been in the infirmary he has been under the supervision of the warders, who report to me—he understood perfectly what I said to him—he expressed himself clearly.

HENRY CHARLTON BASTIAN . I am physician to the University College Hospital, and to the Hospital for the Paralysed and Epileptic—I was requested by the Home Secretary to see the prisoner in Holloway Gaol—I saw him on June 18th and 27th—I talked to him, and examined him with a view to see what the state of his mind was—I had a long conversation with him on each occasion—he seemed to be suffering from hallucinations of sight and hearing—he thought that he heard voices when he was in bed, calling out in the yard; also voices calling to him in the street; also that he had seen men running in and out of his room, partly through the door and partly through the window; that he saw a policeman going out through the window—he had also certain delusions relating to the hallucinations with regard to this woman—his delusions were fancies that the woman had been having connection with the man Salmon, the policeman, and many others—I think all these things were the result of excessive drinking; that is to say, it was a condition of brain brought on by long continued excessive drinking—he appeared to know who I was, and to understand what I said to him, and to express himself and make himself understood by me—at present I can detect nothing else wrong about him than the delusions or hallucinations he was not suffering from delirium tremens when I first saw him; he had recovered from that long ago—a man in that state taking drink would be less able to control his feelings.

Cross-examined. The excessive drinking had undoubtedly damaged his brain—there was a diseased action; it is not a disease that could be recognised by the naked eye—he was sent to the infirmary for delirium tremens, and all the active symptoms of delirium tremens had disappeared when he was discharged—I think it was quite excusable that they did not detect his condition of mind; if they had, undoubtedly he should not have been discharged, but I think it was an oversight that might naturally occur.

By the COURT. A suspicion may run into a delusion; the want of foundation for the suspicion may be of such a character as to make it a

delusion; that is what I think in this case—the things ho said were a improbable—he said that men came about his place like so many cats—I think that is a view that a sane man could not hold—a sane man may hold a suspicion not amounting to delusion, but a delusion is suspecting something that no sane man could suspect.

By MR. BEARD. I stated in my report that the prisoner cannot even now he said to be actually of sound mind; that is so in regard to the fact that he still apparently implicitly believes that he heard and saw these things, and he entertains the delusions arising out of that, other wise, as far as I can see, he is of sound mind.

GUILTY of murder, but, being insane at the time he committed the act— Ordered to be detained during Her Majesty's pleasure.

(For Cases tried in New Court, Wednesday, see Essex and Surrey Cases.)

THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, July 4th, 1888.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-636
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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636. EUGENIE BLANCHARD (22) , Unlawfully endeavouring to conceal the birth of her child.

MR. POYNTER Prosecuted; MR. GILL Defended.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-637
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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637. ISAAC BENJAMIN (24) , Stealing 14 lb. of sewing silk of Alfred Bayliss, and others. Second Count, receiving the same.

MR. KEITH FRITH Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.

JOHN VYNER (Detective Sergeant H). On 14th December, 1887, about 6.30, I and another officer went to 140, Jubilee Street, Commercial Road, where the prisoner resided—I arrested him on a charge of smuggling, and I then found a bag containing 14 lb. of silk under the bed; the silk was similar to this sample, in skeins of various colours—he was taken to Arbour Square, and fined 116l. for smuggling—the silk was not then owned, and it was detained for 14 days—when I found the silk at his rooms I asked him about it, and he said "I refuse to give any account of it"—I took him to the station, and he was brought up at the Thames Police-court—on 8th March a summons came on for hearing; Sir Charles Warren for the Commissioners of Police was represented by Sergeant Jones from the Convict Office—the prisoner appeared, and Mr. Bayliss appeared—the matter before the Magistrate related to silk—Sergeant Jones took the silk away; it was given up afterwards—the prisoner went into the witness box, and made a statement—he said in my presence, but not to me, "I bought it off a stall in Petticoat Lane; I don't remember what I gave for it"—this occurred in Court—he said he could not remember the names of the parties he bought it of, or what he gave for it—the silk found at his house was afterwards shown to Mr. Bayliss, and was produced at Bow Street—some other property was found, but that is not here to-day—a pair of curtains was found—they were shown to Mr. Low, of 32, Romford Road, and he has identified them.

Cross-examined. I first gave evidence before the Magistrate on 16th June, and was recalled on 19th—on the 16th I said the prisoner had

been charged with unlawful possession of the silk, and that the charge was dismissed, and afterwards, on the 19th, I said it was not gone into—it was a mistake to say it was dismissed—the prisoner's father was tried here last Session for receiving stolen goods, convicted and sentenced to 20 months—when the prisoner was taken into custody the father was not in custody—at the time the prisoner declined to give me any information about the silk his father was not in custody—Detective Cross, of the City Police, is in charge of the case—I have been to Low's place of business—at the police-court it was sworn that this pair of curtains was found at the prisoner's house; that is correct—before the prisoner was sent for trial I knew the curtains belonged to Low—I saw Low's foreman, and asked him to attend at the police-court—the foreman said he would request Low to go there, but he did not come—I saw Low before the prisoner was sent for trial; I did not ask him to attend at the police-court—he said "I have got my property"—he got in the witness box; he did not decline, nor did he wish to prosecute—the Commissioners of Police did not put pressure on him to prosecute—Low did not say that one reason he declined to prosecute was because he knew the curtains had been stolen by the prisoner's father—the prisoner occupies one small room—I don't know that during the time he was locked up his father was in the habit of visiting there—I have never seen his father going there; I daresay he was friendly with his father—his father pleaded guilty to three indictments for receiving—the prisoner could not pay the 116l., and went to prison instead—Cross arrested him—the Magistrate heard about the silk found in his possession before he sentenced him; it was produced in Court—the summons was taken out by the Commissioners of Police calling on the defendant to show cause why the property should not be given up; it was an interpleader summons—when that summons was heard at Bow Street the prisoner's father was not then in custody; the police had not sufficient information to warrant them in arresting him, and his father not being in custody he declined to give the police any information as to how he got it—I believe the prisoner had been in custody before, besides for the smuggling; I have information that he was in custody two years ago at Clerkenwell—a friend of mine knows it better than I do; he is a man I have had a good bit of information from; he is anything—I don't say I know the prisoner has been convicted—I don't know who is the gaoler at Clerkenwell Police-court now—I have been to the police-court and the police-station—I have nobody here to identify the prisoner; I don't know the officer who had him; I cannot swear any officer over had him—I don't know the name of the person who told me he had been convicted before—I don't know that he has been convicted—I have met my informer in Petticoat Lane generally; he is not there with a stall—sometimes I meet him in public-houses—I meet him accidentally about 12 and 6 o'clock—I call him Joe; there are a lot of people down our way who don't know each other's proper names.

Re-examined. I have known Joe about 12 months—he has given me information that has been useful to me in cases—after information there have been convictions—I got this information from him about the prisoner—I don't know his other name.

FREDERICK ROBERT POTTS . I am a foreman packer in the employment of Bayliss, Gillis, and Co., warehousemen, of 29, Newgate Street—Mr. Alfred Bayliss is a partner with others—this is a sample of embroidery

silk specially manufactured for our firm by their direction—on 22nd November, 1887, I missed a case containing 296¾ gross of embroidery silk in skeins, similar to this sample, from outside our warehouse in the street—the value of the case with its contents was 126l. 2s. 4d.—in March, 1888, I received from Scotland Yard a bag containing 14 lb. weight—this sample produced is similar to that I received from the police, which I lost from our warehouse—it is calculated at 28l.

Cross-examined. This embroidery silk is a special line of ours—I first saw this sample at the police-court—it was given to me—14 similar pounds have been given to me—Mr. Bayliss got the 14 lb.—I was is town at the time—it was handed to me at Scotland Yard.

ADAM BRYANT . I am a warehouseman in the employment of Messrs. Warden and Devonport, silk manufacturers, of Leek—on 20th November, 1887, I packed a case containing zephyr embroidery silk of the value of 126l. 2s. 4d., and sent it off to Messrs. Bayliss by the London and North Western Railway agents—this sample of silk produced I recognise as similar in every respect to the silk I sent to Messrs. Bayliss—it is manufactured for Bayliss and Gillis by our firm.

JOHN BOOTH . I am a carman in the employment of the London and North Western Railway Company—on 22nd November I received a case at Broad Street Station addressed to Bayliss and Gillis, of Newgate Street—on the same day I delivered that case at their place in Newgate Street between a quarter to 12 and half-past.

ALFRED EDWARD BAYLISS . I am a partner with others in the firm of Bayliss and Gillis, Newgate Street—I took this sample of silk produced from the 14 lb. of silk given to me by the police after the proceedings at Bow Street, when the 14 lb. were produced; I saw it—it was given up to me by the Magistrate's order—the bulk of it has been sold since—altogether about 28l. has been given up—the value of the contents of the case stolen was 126l.—about 28l. or 29l. has been given back.

Cross-examined. When proceedings were taken for the restitution of the silk I attended at the police-court—that was three months perhaps before I was called on to give evidence against the prisoner—I know nothing of his father being arrested and sentenced in the interval—I heard it about a fortnight ago at the police-court—I expressed no opinion in the witness-box at the police-court.

Re-examined. I swear to it as being my silk.

WILLIAM CROSS (City Detective Constable). About 9 a.m. on 16th June I met the prisoner outside Holloway Prison—I said "I am a police officer; I shall take you into custody on a charge of stealing and receiving a portion of silk that was stolen from Newgate Street on 22nd November last"—he stood for a second and then said "I am innocent; I bought it down Petticoat Lane"—he was taken to Snow Hill Police-station and charged—he was asked at Bow Street by Sir James Ingham the name of the person he bought it from; he said he did not know—he was also asked how much he gave for it; he could not recollect—I served him with a copy of this notice on 2nd July, 1888. (This was a notice that Henry Low, of Romford Road, would give evidence against him about a pair of curtains stolen and found on his premises.)

Cross-examined. I know the prisoner's father was in Holloway Prison a short time before I took the prisoner into custody—I did not

know he was there at the time—he was sentenced from this Court last Session—I saw Mr. Low once before the prisoner was sent for trial—when Mr. Low was summoned to give evidence at the police-court I told Mr. Saville, the chief clerk, that Vyner had been down to make inquiries about Low, and I told Mr. Saville that Low did not want to come, as he had got his curtains back—I had no other reason for his not coming—he was ordered then by Vyner, and did not attend—it is not correct to say Low did not want to prosecute—he did not wish to charge the man; he was perfectly satisfied in giving evidence—I suppose he thought he might be liable to something if he charged—he wished to give evidence against the prisoner, but not prosecute him—he was disgusted at coming up to the Court and not being called to give evidence—he was then asked if he would charge him, and he said he did not want to charge the man—Mr. Saville issued a summons to Low to attend the Court—on the day it was heard the second clerk and Alderman Renals were there, and the second clerk asked Mr. Low whether he wanted to charge—he said he did not want to charge; he came up to give evidence, and the Alderman thought there was no case if he did not want to charge, and the next day Mr. Saville came—I knew Benjamin's father years ago—I had not suspected him for some crime—I had suspected him when I knew him—I did not know as a fact that the police were watching his house—I heard him sentenced; I was not present at his trial—I did not hear that watch had been kept on his house and inquiries made—I know he was convicted of receiving a lot of goods—I do not know how many rooms the prisoner occupied when the silk was found—I know Benjamin, senior, was not charged with receiving this silk—a witness for the prisoner was called at the police-court; I don't know what her name was; she said she was lodging in the prisoner's house—I have not made inquiries as to the truth or falsity of her story—no charge is made with regard to the curtains.

HENRY LOW . I live at 32, Romford Road, and am a dyer and cleaner—Vyner has showed me some curtains which I identified as mine; they were last safe in my carman's possession on 24th November, being trans ferred to my warehouse; they were stolen on that day in transit—Vyner showed them to me about a month afterwards, or rather less.

Cross-examined. When I missed the curtains they were in the possession of the carman—I had never seen them till they were at the police-court—the carman is not here—I was only bailee; they were being forwarded to me from another cleaner.

JOHN VYNEE (Re-examined by MR. GEOQHEGAN). The prisoner occupied two rooms when he was arrested; a bedroom and sitting-room all in one, and a kitchen in the back on the same floor—they opened into one another—I found the silk under the bed wrapped up in a common bag of black stuff—his father did not live in the same house.

HARRIETT SPARROW (Examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN). I am a widow, and have lived at 140, Jubilee Street, for 13 months—in November and December last the prisoner was lodging there—he occupied one room—in December, I think, the police came there and took away something—I have only seen Benjamin, senior, once—I did not know till afterwards he was Benjamin—in December, some little time before the police came, an elderly man came to the house; I let him in—he had some parcels

with him—the prisoner was not at home then—the elderly man asked for Benjamin, and went up to Benjamin's room directly—I did not see him come down—in consequence of something Mrs. Benjamin, the prisoner's wife, told me, I knew that Benjamin was the elderly gentleman who called.

By MR. KEITH FRITH. I heard that the same day, after he went away; that was in December; I swear that—I told my solicitor that at the police-court—I do not know why I did not tell the Magistrate that it was Mr. Benjamin, but spoke of him as an elderly man; I had no occasion to do so—I told my solicitor young Mrs. Benjamin said it was her father in-law—I am not still living in the house with Mrs. Benjamin—I did not think it material to tell the Magistrate that the elderly man was Mr. Benjamin—I did not take particular notice what sort of parcel he had; he passed very quickly upstairs—she said after he went "I have had my father-in-law here"—I have not seen him before or since; that was all she said—I did not ask her why he was taking anything upstairs—he was a perfectly strange man to me—she did not see him when he went up—I was not curious to ask who he was—I could not say what time it was in December.

GUILTY ofreceiving.— Ten Months' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-638
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

638. CHARLES TUBBS (51) and JOHN NEWMAN (26) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of Thomas Coulstine, with intent to steal therein, they having been previously convicted of felony; Tubbs in March, 1883, and Newman in May, 1886, at this Court.— Two Years' Hard Labour each.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-639
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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639. WILLIAM JONES** (37) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Edward Edgehill, and stealing brooches and 2s. 8¾d., the goods and moneys of Alfred Bonsall, after a conviction of felony at this Court in May, 1878.— Twenty Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-640
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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640. JOHN CRAWSHAW (49) to unlawfully attempting to obtain 5l. from Edward Netherclift, by false pretences, with intent to defraud.— Six Months' Imprisonment without Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

OLD COURT.—Thursday, July 5th, 1888.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-641
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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641. WILLIAM ALBERT RAYNER (24) , Feloniously wounding Mary Smith with intent to murder. Second Count, to do grievous bodily harm.

MESSRS. POLAND and BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. MUIR Defended.

WALTER JONES . I am a hair dresser, of 148, Earl's Court Road—I have known the prisoner about twelve months—I knew a girl named Johanna Smith—I believe the prisoner was a plumber and painter—I can't say where he lived—I can't say whether he was engaged to Johanna—on 11th April I saw the prisoner at West Brompton Station between half-past 8 and 9 in the evening—he asked me if I had seen anything of Johanna lately—I said "No," but I had heard that she had been to one or two dances lately—the prisoner took a revolver from his coat pocket and showed it to me and said "By God, she won't go to many more dances when she sees this"—it was a revolver similar to this

(produced)—told him to put it away or he would get into trouble—I said good bye to him and left him.

Cross-examined. I think he told me he had been in America about two or three years—he took the revolver from a pocket behind.

JANE SMITH . I live at 33, Bramber Road, Fulham—I have two elder sisters, Johanna, aged 19, and Mary, 22—we all three lived together; the prisoner lodged in the house from August 1886, to March, 1887—he became engaged to Johanna—about November last the engagement was broken off—I saw him about a month or so before 12th April he called at the house and said he wanted to see Johanna—she was out, I told him so—he said he wanted to speak to her, he wanted his photo back—that was all that passed—he then left—I saw him next on 12th April about 9 at night; he knocked at the door and asked to see Johanna, he wanted to make it up with her again, as he was going away—he did not say where he was going—I told him she would have nothing more to do with him—he said he would not bother us any more—he asked me to go upstairs and ask her if she would come and see him at the door—I shut the door and shut him out and went upstairs, and saw my sister, came down again, opened the door where he was waiting, and said she would not see him—he said he was going away on a voyage and he would not trouble us any more—he asked me to go up and see my sister again—I said "No, she would not see him"—he said "Good bye," and went towards the gate as if going—as I was in the act of shutting the door, he returned, pushed by me and ran upstairs; I ran up after him—my sister's room was the back room on the second floor—he fired the first shot before he got up the stairs—I saw my sister Mary outside the room—I heard the shot fired—Mary screamed and went into the room and banged the door twice—the prisoner pushed open the door and rushed into the room, and then there were two more shots—I saw the prisoner come out of the room; I was then on the stairs—he rushed downstairs; I was in front of him—I went out at the street door and the prisoner after me; he got out first; I laid hold of him, he hit me on the shoulder and I fell down, and then he ran away—I afterwards found that my sister Mary had been wounded—I did not see the prisoner again till he was in custody.

Cross-examined. I did not know the prisoner before he came to lodge with us in 1886—Johanna did not know him before—while they were engaged he treated her kindly; he gave her small presents and that kind of thing—about the end of 1886 my sister was unwell; they had quarrels sometimes—she never went to any dances without him or went out with other young men; that was not the cause of quarrel—he always said he worked for himself as a master, not as a workman—he always used to be at home—I don't know that he was in want of money—I believe he borrowed small sums of Johanna—when he called in April, I asked if my sister had got anything of his—he said "Yes; she has got one thing of mine, and that's broken"—I said "I suppose you mean your heart," he said "Yes"—it was after that he said he was going on a voyage, and he asked me to go and ask my sister to see him for the last time—I refused to go, and he turned to go away-the street door is about two or three yards from the gate; there is one step—he had got about halfway to the gate when he turned and rushed upstairs—when he fired the first shot on the stairs I was behind him—I did not see the

Pistol; the stairs were dark—it was when the pistol flashed that I saw Mary at the door—there was a light inside the room, but when the door opened the light went out, and I could see nothing more—I heard the two shots; they were fired almost immediately after the door closed, and immediately after that he came out and rushed downstairs—my mother was there at the time.

MARY SMITH . I live with my mother and sister—the prisoner lodged in the house in March, 1887—on 12th April I was with my sister Johanna in the top room—my sister Jane came up and spoke to me, and Johanna went down—I then heard a scuffle on the stairs, and ran out, shutting the door behind me, and keeping hold of the handle—I then heard report of firearms, and by the flash saw the prisoner about seven steps below me—I felt a knock on my arm, and went into the room, and my pushing the door open caused a draught, which made the lamp go out—the prisoner followed me into the room, and stood on my left—my sister Johanna stood facing the door on my right—I then saw another flash and heard a report—I saw by the flash that the prisoner was looking at me, and his pistol was in his right hand, pointed at my arm—I felt a second knock on my arm, and staggered back—he then fired again, pointing the pistol at my sister, who was standing near the cupboard—he said nothing while he was in the room—he ran out after the third shot, and I walked out after him and went downstairs—I began to feel faint when I got to the second landing—the prisoner, who was then on the first flight from the street door, said "All right"—I went down into the lodger's room, and found I was wounded on my arm in two places—Dr. Parker came and examined me, and next day I was taken to St. George's Hospital.

Cross-examined. The stairs turn round—there is a window below, but no light came in—I could not see the prisoner till I saw the flash, and when in the room it was by the light of the flash that I saw in what direction he pointed the pistol—I should say his hand was down to his his hip when the third shot was fired, and his elbow bent.

JOHANNA SMITH . I live with my mother and sisters—I was engaged to be married to the prisoner, but it was broken off in November last, and he said he would shoot me if I went with any one else—I knew that he had a revolver; he had shown it to me—he said that he got it in America—it was not this one—on 12th April I was upstairs in my room, and heard a shot fired outside the room—at the first shot I saw the pistol pointed at my sister Mary, and the second was fired at me—he was half a yard from Mary and two and a half yards from me—the shot missed me, and went into the wall, about 6 inches from where I was standing—the police afterwards took the bullet out of the wall.

Cross-examined. The lamp had gone out, but I saw the direction of the aim by the flash of the pistol—he held it down like this, but at the second shot he seemed to hold it out more like this—I showed the inspector the spot where I was standing, and he found the bullet about the height of my waist—I broke off my engagement with the prisoner; I thought he had not sufficient affection for me—he seemed desirous to keep company with me again, but I do not think he still had affection for me—I think he had none, though he kept persuading me to marry him.

HUGH LAWSON . I was house surgeon at St. George's Hospital—on 13th April Mary Smith came there with three wounds, one on the arm and two on the forearm—one bullet had gone right through it—one bullet had run back behind the shoulder—one of the surgeons extracted it; this is it—she was in bed in the hospital about three weeks.

Cross-examined. The bullet went in from the outer side of the forearm, and came out on the other side—it struck something, because it was bent, but the bone was not splintered—she has nearly recovered, but she has not the full power of her shoulder.

MORRIS BUTCHER (Police Inspector T). On 12th April I went to 12, Bramber Road, and searched the second-floor back room—I found this bullet embedded in the wall about 3 feet from the floor—the room measures about 10 feet by 8 feet.

Cross-examined. Johanna Smith pointed out where she was standing—the bullet was about a foot from there.

HARFORD CHARLES DRYDEN . I am manager to Mr. Ashworth, a pawn broker of St. Albans—on 12th April, about 6. 45 p.m., the prisoner pawned this revolver for 1s. 7d. in the name of William Berry.

JOSEPH SAMMERS (Police Sergeant T). On 5th May I went to Chester and found the prisoner detained in custody and told him the charge; he made no answer, but on the way to London he asked me how the girl was, and said he was very sorry for her, but he wished he had killed Jo., that he loved her and after this was over he would marry her if she would have him—he said "I left London the following morning and walked to St. Albans, where I pawned the revolver and sold the ticket, and I have been sleeping in casual wards, and I thought of giving myself up several times"—I have tried these two bullets and they fit the revolver.

Cross-examined. The conversation was in the train shortly after we left Chester—he asked me how Mary was, I said she was very bad—he did not say "I am sorry for her, as she is a very inoffensive little girl," he only said "lam sorry for her"—I did not say "I suppose you would not care if you had killed the other one," it was an entirely voluntary statement on his part.

GUILTY of wounding with intent to do grievous bodily harm.Ten Years' Penal Servitude.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-642
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

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642. MARY SARAH LAMBERT (28) , Unlawfully endeavouring to conceal the birth of her child.

MR. POYNTER, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.


NEW COURT.—Thursday, July 5th, 1888.

Before Mr. Recorder.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-643
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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643. WILLIAM SHAW (28) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of Edward William Sclater, and stealing a waistcoat and other articles, his property, having been convicted at this Court in October.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-644
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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644. JOHN BERNARD (40) and JAMES MONTEITH (45) to unlawfully obtaining 3l., 16s. 9d., 1l. 4s., and other sums from divers persons with intent to defraud.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour each. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-645
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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645. FREDERICK WILLIAM ANGIER (30) to two indictments for forging and uttering two cheques for 20l. each with intent to defraud.— Nine Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-646
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment; Miscellaneous > sureties

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646. AUGUSTE COLLINGRIDGE, Unlawfully publishing a libel concerning Jane Matilda Flintoff.

MR. RICHARDS Prosecuted; MR. A. METCALFE Defended.

JANE MATILDA FLINTOFF . I am the wife of George Flintoff, a civil engineer, of 6, Abbey Street, St. John's Wood—we formerly lived at 8, Northumberland Street, Strand, and left in October, 1885—on 11th April, 1885, the defendant took apartments at our house, and mentioned Mr. Lamb, a friend of ours, as a reference—he lived with us five months, and then became our tenant at 300, London Road, Bermondsey, at 30l. a year rent—we had great difficulty in getting the rent, and were obliged on different occasions to distrain, but the brokers could not get in—the ground was that I had not given him a false receipt in the name of Garnet and Jones—this (produced) is the original agreement—it is signed "A. Collingridge," and I objected to give the receipt in any other name—I know the defendant's writing—this post card of February 21st is his writing—I received it from Mr. Chadd, and also the other post card of September 30th, 1887, which is in the prisoner's writing, but disguised—I also received this postcard from Chadd: "Mr. Chadd, the crafty old bitch, as you called the woman Flintoff one day, has received her rent from the County Court, so if you want any rent look out"—I applied for the rent several times, and tendered my receipt, and asked for the money—he gave me three 5l. notes and said "I do not require your receipt; you must sign this"—I said "I cannot"—it was in a dark part of the room—he said "Sign here," and I did not know till three minutes after wards that I had signed a receipt in the name of Garnet and Jones—I had a witness with me.

Cross-examined. I first knew the prisoner on 11th April, 1885—I did not know him in 1881—I knew some people named Le Serf, but he did not introduce them—he did not pay the bills; they paid in advance—I have not boasted that I can write several hands—this document, "D," was not written by me or by my authority—I wished for Mr. Netherclift, the expert, to be engaged, but my solicitor engaged Mr. Inglis, of whom I knew nothing—I did not tell the defendant that Benson, the man who was convicted of the turf frauds, lodged in my house, nor that I learned handwriting from him—I never mentioned his name—he did reside in my house—I once wrote an anonymous letter to the Board of Works at the defendant's dictation; this is it (produced)—I have written letters to the police authorities at Bow Street when there have been nuisances of cabs—I have not charged the police with blackmailing me, not if you mean asking for money; I said "An assault"—I mean to represent, apart from the receipt difficulty, that there had been difficulty in getting the money—he owes me 65l. for board and lodging at Northumberland Street, and I have never had a. farthing of it; I asked continually for it—he was living with me before he took the house in Loudon Road, and he brought a woman, who he represented as his wife, but I found out that she was not—I had no spectacles when I signed the receipt, and I could not see; you will notice that by the writing—the Magistrate adjourned the case because you proposed it—it was adjourned for experts on your side as well as mine—my solicitor suggested an expert after the

adjournment—after hearing the expert the Magistrate committed the defendant for trial—the letter and envelope are in the prisoner's writing.

Re-examined. The anonymous letter was about a nuisance, and therefore it was wiser not to let the Board of Works know who I was—Mr. Horsfall had not done his work, and I told them to look after him—there is not the slightest truth in the statement that I knew anything of the turf frauds—I did not know it till months afterwards—I was subpoenaed to give evidence—I did not send this to Mr. Collingridge; it is in his own writing—I know nothing about it—I opened it, and found it was a lot of words cut out of a newspaper—I charged a constable with assault before Mr. Flowers, and he said that if I did not accept the constable's apology he would send the case for trial, and I accepted it—that was in 1885.

GEORGE FLINTOFF . I am an engineer, and the complainant's husband—I know the defendant's writing, and believe every one of these post cards are his writing—I had some doubt about one, and said that I thought it had better be referred to an expert, but I believe they are all his.

Cross-examined. I believe post-card "D" is in the prisoner's writing, but disguised.

JAMES CHADD . I am a broker—I received these two post-cards and the letter marked "E" in this torn envelope—on 21st February I received this post-card marked "A," and handed it to the prosecutrix; it is in the defendant's writing—there is not the slightest truth in the assertions about the complainant drinking with me—to the best of my belief these two cards correspond exactly with letters I had from the defendant.

Cross-examined. Mrs. Flintoff was one of my employers—I never called her, even in joke," a crafty old bitch."

FREDERICK GEORGE NETHERCLIFT . I have been an expert in hand writing going on for 43 years—I have seen post-card "D" and the other letters, and have compared them with specimens of the defendant's writing; they are written by him in disguise, and he has patched them up—I should say that the word "bitch" in "E" is in the same writing—this is my report, and these are the reasons I give.

Cross-examined. Mr. Flintoff called on me, and showed me an envelope or letter marked "F"—to the best of my opinion "D" is not in a woman's writing—I do not generally disagree with Mr. Inglis; we are together very often—I used to disagree with Mr. Chabot on difficult points—I am certain the prisoner wrote this himself, and that no one has copied it—here and there the words finish with a dash; many men do that, as well as women—some of the letters on the post-card have been thickened off since they were written, and if any one wished to imitate his writing and succeeded so well why should they paint it?—there is no connection between the "a" and the "c" in the word back in letter "E;" the pen has been lifted.

Witnesses for the Defence.

EDWIN ARNOLD . I live at 5, Salter's Hill, Cannon Street—I was formerly a bill broker, and have a knowledge of handwriting, in addition to which I have known the defendant's writing many years, and have seen his signature many hundred times, and I say decidedly that this card "D" is not his writing, nor is it his writing disguised—in my opinion it was written by a woman—I see much women's writing in my private

capacity—I should say it would be impossible for the defendant so to disguise his writing as to write this.

Cross-examined. I have been a bill broker several years, but gave it up when I married a lady of title—when I get bills they are not in an assumed writing—I would not discount one of the defendant's bills unless it was his natural writing—I know his signature in letters as well as on bills—I say that post-card "D" is in a woman's writing, from the style of penmanship; I have seen servants' writing, and uneducated people's—I should say that "You crafty old" on "F" is the defendant's Writing, and so is this paper "E"—I see a difference between the two Words "bitch" on the two cards—I have never had any letters from the defendant in the same style.

By the COURT. He has been in business of late years manufacturing Salts—he does not offer bills for discount; it was a private correspondence, but formerly it was commercial.

GEORGE SMITH INGLIS . I am an expert in handwriting—I was first Called into this case by Mr. Palmer, the solicitor for the prosecution, before Mr. Netherclift was called at all—all the papers which were laid before him were, I believe, laid before me, and I made a report upon them, but they went to another expert—I have since looked at the same documents again, and this is my report—I believe "D" is written by a woman, but there are points of similarity to the defendant's writing, which I should expect to find in a document which was intended to be a copy of his writing by another person—the general fine line writing on "D" is not in accordance with Mr. Collingridge's writing—the words on the address side and the dashes finishing the words "you," "bitch," and "Chadd," freely indicate a lady's writing—further examination shows that many letters have been thickened to take off the lady's styles which was too apparent—the word "look" on "D" is clearly a copy of the same word on "E" and the word "known" in "D" is a copy of the same word on "E"—the "Ch" in Chadd on "D" is a copy of the same word on the envelope of "E," and has been thickened to take off the lady's style. (Pointing out other similarities to the Jury)—this "w" in watch is an imitation of the "w" in woman; there is a very fine point at the top of the "w," and I find that in Mrs. Flintoff's letters—an imitation must be stiff and not natural, not flowing; I pointed that out in the word "Bermondsey"—the double "ff" in Flintoff is a lady's formation of letter; I believe the face of the card is a copy of that—I have not altered my opinion since the matter was first laid before me.

Cross-examined. I sometimes make mistakes—in the case of Dr. Farmer, the Magistrate took a different view from me, and so the Jury did—I have been told the defendant is a foreigner—I have not had much experience of foreigners' writing, but I take his writing as I see it—I suggest that the face of the libellous post-card is a copy of the envelope "F"—I do not think it is a man's imitation of a woman's writing—I very seldom disagree with Mr. Netherclift—I do not suggest that Mrs. Flintoff wrote that post-card, but I say it is a woman's writing.

GUILTY . — Two Months' Imprisonment, and to enter into recognisances.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-647
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceMiscellaneous > sureties

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647. JOHN THOMAS TAYLOR, Unlawfully endangering the safety of persons traveling on the North London Railway.

MESSRS. POLNAD and MOON prosecuted; MR.GEOGHEGAN Defended.

JOSEPH RICHARD LEES . I am an engine-driver on the North London Railway—I live at 71, Knapp Road, Bromley-by-Bow—on 9th June I was driving the 4.15 train from Broad Street to Chalk Farm—before reaching Highbury Station the train had to pass under a bridge on which is Highbury Corner—when approaching the bridge I saw the prisoner at the open window of a house which is upon the girders of the bridge—he raised his arm and threw a bottle at us—I was standing on the right side of the engine—the fireman Sheffield was with me—the bottle hit the engine in front of the observation glass—the observation glass is the glass through which we look for signals—it is longer than it is broad—it struck a pipe about three inches over the glass—we could clearly see anything within the line of our observation—the glass is in front of the cover under which we work—I subsequently went to the house which overlooks the line—I saw the prisoner—I said when he came into the shop "Will you take your hat off, please?" although I knew him with his hat on, but when he took his hat off I immediately identified him, and said "That is the boy," or "man that threw the glass bottle at me on the engine," and "I challenge you to deny it"—he said "I did throw a bottle," distinctly—I collected these pieces (produced) off the top of the tank, close by the observation glass—the fireman and Perks, the inspector, and Constable Baxter were with me when I went to the house.

Cross-examined. They were present when I saw the boy—the constable and our inspector went in first, about half a minute before I was called in—the prisoner appeared very much confused when I challenged him—this is a correct photograph of the scene—our train was on the left side—the train on the right would run to Broad Street, and between us there was the six-foot way—the row of houses are upon the girder that crosses the railway and comes up to an angle—the prisoner was looking straight on to us—he had the bottle originally low down on the window-ledge, but on our approaching the girder, as we ran under, he deliberately raised it and threw it at us—we had passed under the bridge, which I said was 40 or 50 yards away, but that is an error of judgment, it is 50 or 60—we were due at Chalk Farm at 4.39, and should pass under the bridge about 4.30—after passing Canonbury we were going about 20 miles an hour—I saw the prisoner when I was about 40 yards from the girder for about 10 seconds—the line is up hill—both the fireman and myself cover the same ground of observation—the fireman would see what I saw—we were not looking out for the prisoner, but looking to see if there was anything on the metals—I have been told that the window-sill slopes; I do not believe it slopes six inches—if a bottle had dropped from the window-sill it would not have struck the engine where it did—it was a hot day—the bottle did not slip down on us—the next station beyond was about a mile off—there is sometimes smoke as we pass under the bridge, but the steam was shut off—we were stopping at the station near the iron girders.

Re-examined. There was nothing to obscure our view—I was looking at the boy.

ALFRED CHARLES SHEFFIELD . I am a fireman in the employ of the North London Railway Company—I was with Lees when we were approaching the bridge which carries Highbury Corner over the railway—I saw the prisoner standing at the window with something in his

hand—he lifted up his hand and threw a glass bottle at us—I afterwards went with the driver to the house where he lived—the driver said "Will you take your hat off, please?"—the prisoner took his hat off and the driver identified him at once—our inspector said "Can you identify him?" and the driver said "Yes, that is the man," or "boy that threw the bottle at me on the engine, I defy you to deny it"—he looked the boy straight in the face and the boy said "I did throw a bottle."

Cross-examined. I should say the boy is about 5 feet high—the height from the window ledge to our observation glass would be about 5 feet—the glass is in a brass frame—we work under a cover—the glass struck the steam break pipe about 4 inches from the glass—we could see him quite plainly—we were almost under him, looking up 15 feet—we could not see straight up only through the window—I did not see the glass till it came down, but I saw something in the prisoner's hand—I did not see it on the window sill—I said at the police-court that I saw something in his hand, and the next I saw was the glass bottle coming down.

Re-examined. When the bottle hit the engine I was just below the bridge—we had not entered the bridge.

RICHARD PERKS (Police Inspector North London Railway). I went with the driver and fireman to where the prisoner lives about three days after the bottle was thrown—I heard the conversation between the engine driver and the prisoner—the prisoner said "I did throw a bottle."

Cross-examined. The window-sill does not slope—I did not go into the back room—I cannot tell you the height of the window, I made no measurement—I do not know if the company prepared this plan—I was told by the police superintendent to attend.

GEORGE BAXTER (268 N). I went with Perks to see the prisoner at Mr. Wright's shop—I heard the conversation between the prisoner and him—I heard the prisoner say "I did throw one."

Cross-examined. He did not say "I threw a bottle," he said "I did throw one"—he was merely asked by the driver if he would deny the charge, and whether it was correct or not—the driver said "I defy you to deny it," and then the prisoner said "I did throw one"—he looked rather confused—I have been in Court and heard the driver say "the prisoner was very much confused"—he did look confused—he is an apprentice to Mr. Wright, and he may have been at Mr. Wright's two years.

Witness for the Defence.

JOHN WRIGHT . I am a hairdresser of Highbury Corner—the prisoner is my apprentice—about two years before coming to me he was in the service of Reid and Co., brewers—he has been a very good boy—I should not call him mischievous—I have never found him mix up the stuffs or play practical jokes—I should not call him a wanton boy—the window sill that overlooks the railway, slopes from 4 to 5 inches, in about the same width as the Judge's desk—it slopes very much—I cannot say I feel the vibration from the engines passing or hear the trains, I am so accustomed to it—I do not know of a customer being cut in consequence of the vibration during shaving, but there is vibration—I have been 15 years in those premises and I never had a single bottle shaken from the window or case, but I should not like to put a bottle on the window-sill—if it was put there anyone could see if it was on the slope.

GUILTY . — To enter into recognisances.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-648
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

648. ALFRED AXTON (27) , Unlawfully taking Susan Smith, a girl under 18 years of age, from the custody of her father, with intent that she should be unlawfully known. Second Count, Unlawfully and carnally knowing the said Susan Smith.

MR. LAWLESS Prosecuted.

GUILTY . — Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

THIRD COURT.—Thursday, July 5th, 1888.

Before Mr. Common Sergeant.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-649
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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649. JOSEPH TERRY (37) , Stealing a watch, chain, and locket, the property of Sidney Street, from his person.

MR. KERSHAW Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.

SIDNEY STREET . I have no occupation—I live at 79, Tredescent Road—on 4th June, about five minutes to 12, I was at the corner of Chancery Lane and Fleet Street waiting to take a cab—I took out my watch and compared it with the Law Courts clock, and within a minute the prisoner and a female came to me, and the prisoner asked me if I could direct him to Clifford's Inn, and if I knew a Mrs. Smith who lived at 3, Clifford's Inn—I turned and pointed to it with my left hand, and during that time the woman departed and I lost sight of her—I watched the prisoner as far as Clifford's Inn, but he did not attempt to turn into it; he went straight past it—I then looked down and missed my gold watch and chain—I followed the prisoner till I met a sergeant and constable in Fleet Street, when I charged the prisoner with being concerned with a female in stealing my watch—the prisoner was within a foot of me when he was talking to me, and the woman about the same distance on the other side—the bar of my chain was visible in the button-hole—they both spoke to me at the same time—the woman said "Good evening," something of that sort—I made no answer.

Cross-examined. This was a Monday night—I had come from a friend of mine who keeps the Mitre in Chancery Lane; I had been there about 20 minutes—before that I had been spending the evening with a friend at Upton Park—I went there after dinner—before the woman spoke to me I saw her with the prisoner—I did not see them walking about together—I said before the Magistrate "I did not see you in the company of the woman before I lost my watch"—I also said "As I was turning to point to the man, I looked round and found my watch and chain were gone, and the female had disappeared," that is correct—I meant pointing out the address to the man—I missed the watch after I had pointed it out—it was very easy for the woman to get away with the 'buses and cabs—there is a passage leading into Clifford's Inn by St. Dunstan's—I did not go into that passage at all—I am clear about that—if the prisoner suggests that he saw me come down that passage, a woman having come out first, that would not be true—the policeman did not go up to the prisoner and put his hand on his shoulder and say "Is this the man you mean?"—when charged the prisoner said "I don't remember speaking to you"—he did not say "I have not been with any woman"—he said nothing about a woman—I did not feel where my watch went—I also lost my chain—I discovered it as the prisoner was going away, but I did not run—when I found my watch and chain were

gone I jumped to the conclusion that it was done then—I am certain she did it, nobody else was near me; I was watching the prisoner and know

he could not have taken it.

Re-examined. I followed the prisoner till I came to the policeman, and then gave him in custody—I was perfectly sober—all the time the prisoner was asking the way the woman was close to me; that was how I saw through the ruse afterwards.

CHARLES SMITH (City Policeman 485). On 5th June, at 12. 5, I was on duty in Fleet Street, between Fetter Lane and Anderton's Hotel—Mr. Street made a communication to me, and I went to the prisoner, who was walking towards Ludgate Circus—I said to him "This gentleman says you stole his watch and chain from his waistcoat pocket"—he made no reply—I took him to the station.

Cross-examined. The prisoner had just passed me when Mr. Street came to me—I said "This gentleman wishes to give you in custody for being concerned with a woman in stealing his watch and chain from his waistcoat-pocket"—I might have asked the prosecutor if he was the right man—the prisoner might have said "What do you mean?" or "What do you want?"—I will not swear he did not—the prisoner did not say "Idon't remember to have spoken to the gentleman"—that is not correct—as far as my belief goes he did not make any reply—I cannot say that he said "I have never seen the woman"—I will not swear he did not; that is what I mean by saying he made no reply—as far as my belief goes he did not say when I took him to the station "I know nothing of the woman"—I said before "He said nothing when I took him"—I don't know if he said at the station "I know nothing of the woman"—I won't swear he said "I know nothing of the woman."

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I know nothing of this woman; I am innocent of it."

SIDNEY STREET (Re-examined). My watch had not been back in my pocket more than a minute when the woman spoke to me.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-650
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

650. JOHN ELLSON (20) , Burglariously breaking into the dwelling-house of Sarah Phillips, with intent to steal therein.


SARAH PHILLIPS . I live at 286, City Road, and am a widow—I am a pipe case maker—on the evening of 9th June I shut up and made fast my house for the night—there is an area in front, steps go down to it, and in it is a recess with two doors, one of which is the kitchen door—the kitchen window looks into the area—I made that window secure and safe when I went to bed—between 1 and 2 o'clock in the night I was aroused by a young lady living in the house, and I got up—we opened the street door, and heard a noise in the area; we called a cabman who was passing, and asked him if he would go with us—he came in, and we all three went, into the kitchen we found the kitchen window broken and the shutters forced, and a large hole made in them; they. were fixed with and iron bar inside—there was a catch to the window; I don't remember in what state it was.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not see you in the area; you hid yourself—the kitchen door was fastened, but the other door was not bolted, only latched—the cabman and the policeman took you.

KATE COOPER . I live at Mrs. Phillips's house—on Saturday night, 9th June, about 1. 30, I heard a lot of glass smash—I sleep in the first floor front; Mrs. Phillips slept in the back parlour—I also heard a man singing downstairs—I called Mrs. Phillips—I looked out at the window, and could see a lot of glass, and I thought I saw somebody in the area—I went out with Mrs. Phillips, and called a cabman—I saw the prisoner as he was brought through the house—I thought he was drunk—he did not speak in my presence—I could not say if he was singing; the sound was very close to the house, and nobody was passing by.

THOMAS FORMISON . I am cab-driver No. 10723, and live at 14, St. John's Terrace, Asplin Road, Tottenham—on this Sunday morning, between 12. 30 and 1 o'clock, I was in the City Road, and I was called by some lady, Mrs. Phillips, I think, but it was so dark I could not. be certain, into a garden—I got off my cab, and went into the house and down to the area, where I found the prisoner sitting in a kind of lobby between the area and kitchen—the area is between the garden and the wall of the house, and is open to the sky, with a railing round the outside of it—he was in a rec ess under the steps—he appeared sober—I closed the door on him, and went for a constable—I afterwards noticed a lot of broken china in the area.

Cross-examined. You were sitting in a chair with your head down as if asleep, or pretending to be so.

By the COURT. I did not hear him singing—the lobby or recess is under the steps that go from the hall door to the front garden, and is all enclosed, and has two doors, one leading into the area, and the other into the kitchen—to get to it I went downstairs into the kitchen, and then through the kitchen door, which was bolted, into the recess; I unbolted the door—the kitchen window, looking into the area, was thrown open wide enough for a man to go through, and a piece of the shutter was broken—the chair the prisoner was sitting in was just inside the lobby, outside the kitchen door—I immediately closed the door again and bolted it, and went for assistance—he was still sitting on the chair, and still asleep when the constable came.

JOHN CLARK (Police Sergeant Y 24). Early on Sunday morning, 10th June, I was on duty, and I was called to 286, City Road—I went through the house into the kitchen—I did not see the cabman—my attention was called by hearing some one shouting "Here he is"—I went through the kitchen door, and outside it I found the prisoner sitting in a recess under the steps—there is another door into it from the area—when that door is shut it shuts off the recess from the area—the roof of the recess is the steps that lead to the hall door—the area is open to the sky—the prisoner was awake—the door from the recess into the area was unfastened—there is a latch, but no bolts on it—there is an ordinary handle, which you turn to open it—any one can open it from inside or out by turning the handle; it is an ordinary latch—the kitchen window, which opens into the area, was open—the prisoner could not get through into the kitchen because the shutters prevented him—this half-panel of the shutter was forced out; a man could not get through that—this bolt was drawn from the shutter, and was lying on the bench just inside the kitchen window, both this half-panel and the bolt—the shutters were inside the house, so that to effect an entry you had to get through the window and force and break the shutters—I said to the prisoner "What are you doing here?"—he

said "I was drunk, and came down here for a sleep"—he did not appear like a drunken man—he was steady; he did not sham drunkenness—he had no instruments on him—he gave his correct address—in reply to the charge he said "You had better charge me with being drunk."

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was drunk."

he said in his defence that he was drunk, or he should not have done such a thing so close to where he lived with his respectable parents, nor should he have been singing.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-651
VerdictMiscellaneous > no agreement

Related Material

651. GUSTAV SEVIER, Unlawfully committing wilful and corrupt perjury in an affidavit sworn before Ryse Valantine Chillcott, a commissioner for taking oaths.

MR. GILL Prosecuted; MESSRS. FULTON and LAWLESS Defended.

The Jury, being unable to agree, were discharged without giving a verdict, and the case was postponed to the next Sessions.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-652
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

652. HENRY COOTES (19) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of Saul Solomons with intent to steal, after** a conviction of felony in December, 1885.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-653
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

653. WILLIAM GUARD (29) to burglary in the dwelling-house of James Duncan Campbell, and stealing a pencil case and other articles.— Six Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-654
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

654. JOHN WILSON (16) to breaking and entering the dwelling-hose of Janet Knott, and stealing a bottle of sherbet and other goods; and also to a burglary in the dwelling-house of John Ives, and stealing a box of cigars and other goods.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour on the first and Three Months'. Hard Labour on the second Indictment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-655
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

Related Material

655. THOMAS WHITE (40) to a burglary in the dwelling-house of Henry Garnham, and stealing two coats and other articles, after** a con viction of felony at this Court in December, 1880.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Judgment respited.

OLD COURT.—Friday, July 6th, 1888.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-656
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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656. FREDERICK WOOD (24) and EDWARD WARNE (35) were indicted for the wilful murder of Michael Lewis.

MR. POLAND Prosecuted; MR. ATHERLEY JONES appeared for Wood, and at the request of the Court also for Warne.

ANDREW BARRETT . I live at 109, Church Street, Chelsea—on 31st May I had some zinc in a garden at the Vale, 336, King's Road, Chelsea, valued at about 10s.—you can get to the garden from the Vale—it was safe in the morning of 31s. t May, and between 7 and 8 in the evening it was gone—I saw it at the station the same evening—Warne had worked for me one day at the place where the zinc was, within a day or two of this—the Vale is only open to the tenants living there—I do not know Wood at all.

ROBERT FEEK (Policeman B 141). On 31st May last, at 7 in the evening, I was on duty with Michael Lewis in King's Road, Chelsea—we were in uniform—I have been eight years in the force this second time Lewis had been 20 years in the force—I was new to that beat—I saw the two prisoners in the King's Road, just outside the Vale, on the pavement—I ordered them off the footway; it was so narrow that people could not

pass; people were wanting to pass—Warne said he supposed he could stop there and have five minutes' chat, he had just left off work—they then walked out of the King's Road—Lewis and I then went down King's Road as far as Beaufort Street about three or four minutes—I then went back to the Vale, and saw the prisoners coming from the Vale with the zinc on their shoulders—that was from about 10 minutes to a quarter past 7—they were both together—I stopped them just inside the gates of the Vale—Warne was carrying the zinc on his left shoulder—I asked where he had got it from—he made no reply—Wood said "We might as well have gone home at first as be copped like this"—I said I should take them to the station for the unlawful possession of the zinc—I took hold of them both, and called Lewis to my assistance—he was on the opposite side of King's Road—he came across to me, and I handed Wood over to him, and' told him to take him to the station; Lewis took hold of him—I took Warne out of the Vale, about three or four yards in the King's Road, towards the station—there he threw me up by the testicles; it gave me great pain—he had thrown the zinc off his shoulder—Lewis and Wood passed me as I was on the ground, and Wood made a desperate kick at me—a struggle ensued between Lewis and Wood, and Wood caught hold of his throat and hold of his waist—Wood was trying to get at me to release Warne—Lewis fell to the ground in the struggle, Wood on the top of him—I got up from the ground, and asked Warne to go to the station quietly—he said "Let me go"—he kicked me in the bottom part of the stomach, and knocked me under a 'bus wheel—at that time Wood and Lewis were out of sight—I saw nothing more of them till I got to the station—Wood was then in custody—after the prisoners had been charged Lewis and I proceeded to clean ourselves and tidy our clothes—about 10 minutes to 9 Lewis complained of being faint; he had complained of pains in his chest at the time the charge was taken, at a quarter to 8; he said he might have ricked himself—at 10 minutes to 9 he went out into the yard under the covered way—he got hold of my arm and said "Chummy, I feel so faint," and fell to the ground—I eased him as much as I could by my arm—he bruised his eye, and nose, and his cheek, and forehead—blood oozed from his eyes, nose, and mouth—the divisional surgeon was at once sent for, but before he arrived the man was dead—he died something like three, four, or five minutes after falling—I was injured, and have been on the sick list since.

Cross-examined. I did not see Lewis take Wood into the station; I was about five minutes behind him—it was a quarter to 8 when I got Warne to the station—it was about 25 minutes past 8 when we came out of the kitchen, after having a wash, mending my tunic, and brushing my trousers—Lewis then went off the steps to return to duty, but he returned by the side door—he had complained of faintness before that, when he was mending my tunic; that was about 8 o'clock—Wood was struggling with Lewis when I was on the ground on my back; they passed quite close to me—Lewis had not complained of feeling ill during the day—he first complained of feeling faint about 20 minutes after arriving at the station.

HENRY CROCKER . I am an engineer, of 27, Cassiday Street, Fulham—on Thursday night, 31s. t May, between 7 and half-past, I was riding

along King's Road inside an omnibus, going towards Walham Green—I was sitting on the right-hand side at the far end of the 'bus, as I always did, and I saw Wood on the top of the policeman, who fell on his back—there was a crowd there, and beyond that another crowd, and Warne was in that second crowd—directly the constable fell Wood kicked him; I could not see exactly where he kicked him—part of his body was on the kerb, his legs on the pavement, and his head outside—I saw Lewis get up; Wood was wrestling with him then—a policeman in uniform came to assist him, also two civilians—Wood was then taken away by Lewis and another policeman—on the way they passed by Warne and Feek, the crowd seemed to move, and Wood seemed to want to get where Warne was struggling with the other policeman.

Cross-examined. The crowd somewhat impeded my view until I saw the policeman come pitching out from them—Wood was kicking about when he was lying down till the policeman got up again, and then the crowd surrounded, and I could see no more till I got up to them—Wood was struggling to get away from the policeman—after that he walked quietly, as soon as the other policeman came up to assist.

By the COURT. I had my eye on Wood before Lewis fell—all I could see was that they were wrestling—I thought Lewis was tripped up by the way he fell—I did not see him taken by the throat.

GEORGE RICHARDSON STRACHAN . I live at 28, Uvedale Road, Chelsea, and am surveyor to; the parish of Chelsea—on Thursday night, 31s. t May, about half-past 7, I was going along King's Road, near the Vale, and saw Lewis having hold of Wood, and he seemed to be the master of him—they were both standing up—Lewis had hold of him by the coat, and was shaking him, giving him a shake; they were about 30 yards from the Yale, in the direction of the police-station—I could not say that Wood was doing anything—I went to the assistance of the other constable who had Warne in custody; they were struggling—I saw nothing more of Wood till he was in custody at the station.

Cross-examined. There was an omnibus standing in the roadway—Warne and Feek were in the roadway, close to the kerb—Lewis and Wood were close to the boundary of the kerb with the wood paving.

BENJAMIN INGLEDEW . I live in Brydges Grove, Chiswick—I am the driver of an omnibus—on 31s. t May I was driving it in King's Road, Hammersmith—as I arrived towards the Vale I saw a crowd of 18 to 20 persons—I saw Wood standing with his back against the wall, and Lewis standing opposite to him, with his helmet at the back of his head, as if he had just got up from a stooping position; he had not hold of Wood—my bell then rang, and I drove on.

Cross-examined. My omnibus was not the one that Mr. Crocker was in; that was following me—it was not in sight; the crowd delayed us.

GEORGE WARNER . I am landlord of the Roebuck, at the corner of Beaufort Street, King's Road—on Thursday night, 31st May, about 7. 20, I was at my door—I saw Lewis and Wood lying partly in the road and partly on the pavement, about 20 yards from my house; Lewis was uppermost—I did not see Wood do anything; he seemed to be lying there quietly, and Lewis on top of him—I went up to them, and said to Lewis "Can I assist you?"—he said "No, go to my mate"—I then went toward Feek; he was struggling with Warne—I did not see how Lewis

and Wood got on the ground; they were lying on the ground when I got outside my. door.

SARAH ANN SPICER . I am the wife of Henry William Spicer, a labourer, living at Chelsea—on Thursday evening, 31st May, I was in King's Road at 7 o'clock—I saw a constable in uniform taking Wood by the arm along the King's Road—when they got near Mr. Billings, the cornchandler's, Wood put his foot between the constable, and he fell into the gutter right on his back, and the prisoner on top of him—the constable turned the prisoner over, and had his head on the kerb—the constable looked very white; he did not get up; he only just knelt and held the prisoner—I afterwards saw Feek and Warne.

Cross-examined. Lewis had not got his truncheon drawn—Feek had his.

THOMAS WILSON (Policeman). On this Thursday night I was in King's Road Police-station—some one came there and gave in formation, and the inspector at once sent me out—I went to King's Road, and there saw Lewis with Wood in custody near the Man in the Moon—before I got up to them Wood was struggling apparently to get away—when I got up to him he was walking quietly—Lewis motioned to me, and I went on to assist Feek with Warne.

FREDERICK BECKLEY (Police Inspector). On Thursday, 31st May, I was at the station—some man brought this zinc in about a quarter-past 7—at 20 minutes to 8 Wood was brought there by Lewis, and afterwards Warne was brought in by Feek—at half-past 8 Lewis complained of a tightness on the chest and faintness, and he sat down and was bathed in the back yard—about 20 minutes afterwards I heard of his falling down there, and a surgeon was sent for—he was 48 years of age; he had been 20 years in the force—he was a very healthy man.

Cross-examined. He did not make any complaint of being assaulted by Wood—in the yard he said "I have not been assaulted by the prisoner, but we had an up and downer"—I asked him "Are you sure you were not assaulted?" and he made that reply.

WILLIAM READER (Policeman B 370). On 1st June I was taking down the description of the prisoners, and Wood said "Poor fellow; he did not want much knocking down; I did not intend to kill him."

RICHARD THOMAS DANIEL . I am a registered medical practitioner, and am surgeon to the B Division of Police—on Thursday, 31st May, about 9 o'clock, I went to King's Road Police-station, and saw Lewis in the yard—he was apparently just dead—I had known him professionally about eight years; I knew him before that—on 2nd June I made a post-mortem examination, in the presence of Dr. Egan and other medical men—I found a bruise on the right eye and about the nose such as might be caused by falling on the pavement in the yard—the body was well nourished—on opening the chest we found the lungs gorged with blood; also the pericardium, and there were two ruptures in the right ventricle of the heart—the left testicle was bruised—I saw no signs of disease; all the organs were healthy, the heart included—the walls of the heart were a little thinner than usual, but not diseased—the immediate cause of death was rupture of the heart—violent exertion would be likely to cause that—excitement or violent exertion would produce the state of the lungs—those appearances were quite recent—if a man were thrown or fell violently down on his back, that would be

likely to cause rupture of the heart—violent struggling or violent exertion would cause it all—the injury to the testicle was recent—that would be caused either by a kick, a blow, or strain; that would tend to increase the pain—Lewis was a very slight, small man.

Cross-examined. The injury to the testicle was a somewhat severe one, such as would cause great pain, not such as would necessarily last for a considerable time, five or ten minutes—it would not necessarily incapacitate him for some time—there were two ruptures to the heart, one was an inch long, and the other an inch and a half—death would result from the filling of the pericardium with blood, and thus stopping the action of the heart—the rupture must have begun in a very small degree, and gradually gone on increasing—I don't think it possible that the heart was ruptured by the fall in the police yard, because he lived several minutes afterwards—I take it that the beginning of the rupture was the intense pain and tightness in the chest nearly half an hour before he was dead.

FRANCIS EGAN . I am a registered medical practitioner—I was present at the post-mortem—I have heard Mr. Daniel's evidence; he has correctly described the internal appearances—the cause of death was in my judgment rupture of the heart, arising from the congestion of the lungs, brought on by severe over-exertion—he was a healthy man—there was no valvular disease of the heart—the walls were slightly thinner than usual—there was no softening.

Cross-examined. The heart was not enlarged—the congestion of the lungs was the primary cause of the rupture; excitement and over exertion might produce the congestion—I do not believe that the injury to the testicle could be caused by a strain or fall, unless he fell against a stone; it was a direct injury—the rupture of the heart would come on progressively—I have never had a case of rupture of the heart; I only speak from recorded cases, and from Taylor's Medical Jurisprudence—it would occur in an hour or an hour and a half; it depends on circum stances—I should say that the fall in the yard was caused by the completion of the rupture.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-657
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

657. EDWARD WARNE was again indicted for feloniously causing bodily harm to Robert Feek, with intent to disable, to do grievous bodily harm, and to resist the lawful apprehension.

ROBERT FEEK (Police Constable). On Thursday, 31s. t May, I was in uniform on duty in King's Road, Chelsea—about 7. 30 I saw Warne coming out of the Yale carrying some zinc—I took him into custody, and Lewis took Wood—I asked Warne where he got the zinc from; he made no reply—I caught hold of him by the right arm—we got three or four yards along King's Road towards the station when he caught hold of my testicles with his left hand, and threw me upon my back; it gave me great pain—after a few seconds I got to my feet again—I did not release my hold of him—he kicked me a desperate kick at the bottom of the stomach with his boots, and I fell between the wheels of an omnibus which was standing still—I got up and struck him a blow with my fist; he made another kick at me, and got me down on the ground; I had to call for assistance, as he got hold of my testicles a second time—Mr. Strachan came to my assistance—we got as far as the Roebuck, when Mr. Warner came out to my assistance—Warne was struggling to

get away, and Wilson came to assist me—I had drawn my truncheon when the prisoner kicked me in the stomach, after I was down the second time—with Wilson's assistance I got him to the station, where he was charged—he said there that he would pull my—out, one by one, and show them when he came out—I was attended by Mr. Daniel—I have suffered severely from the injuries, and have not been able to resume duty—he was not drunk.

RICHARD THOMAS DANIEL . I saw Feek on 2nd June; he was suffering from severe contusion of the left elbow, the lower part of the spine, and low portion of the abdomen—he complained of great pain in the testicles—I have attended him ever since—he has been off duty ever since—he will be able to resume duty in another week.

Prisoner's Defence. I said nothing about what he says; I am guilty of the other.

GUILTY **— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-658
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

658. FREDERICK WOOD PLEADED GUILTY to stealing the zinc, and also to assaulting the constable.— Three Months' Hard Labour.

NEW COURT.—Friday, July 6th, 1888.

Before Mr. Recorder.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-659
VerdictsNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

659. HENRY JOSEPH BEBRO (23) , Unlawfully obtaining three tricycles, seven oil paintings, and 25l., by false pretences; also on five indictments for stealing a diamond, 16 bottles of wine, and three tricycles.

MR. FULTON offered no evidence.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-660
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

660. JOHN LYONS (25) , Stealing a watch of Sidney George Fordham, from his person.

MR. SANDERS Prosecuted; MR. MEATS Defended.

SIDNEY GEORGE FORDHAM . I live at 8, Richmond Road, Dalston—on 25th June, about 6.30, I was on London Bridge, saw a crowd, and stopped—I heard a click, and saw my watch-chain hanging down, and the prisoner's hand leaving my waistcoat—he ran away—my watch was gone—Taylor spoke to me, and ran after the prisoner; I followed him, and lost sight of him—I afterwards saw him with Taylor, and gave him in custody—I have no doubt he is the man.

Cross-examined. He was on my left side; his face was towards mine; he was touching me—I have not seen my watch since—I did not notice the prisoner before I felt the pull at my chain.

HENRY JAMES TAYLOR . I am 13 years old, and live at 38, Hope Street, Wandsworth—I was on Mr. Fordham's left side, and heard something go click, which drew my attention, and I saw a watch in the prisoner's hand, who was standing by my side in front of Mr. Fordham—I am sure he is the man—he ran very sharply across the bridge—I spoke to Mr. Ford ham, and than ran after the prisoner—I lost sight of him when he got between some carts, and then went back, and saw him cross the bridge again a few minutes after—I followed him, and told a constable, who searched him, and let him go because the prosecutor was not there, but he came up a few seconds after—the prisoner had gone, and I went after the prisoner again, and told him. the constable wanted him—he said "What for?"—I said "The gentleman you stole the watch from has

come up"—he said nothing to that—we were about 10 yards from the constable, and the prisoner went back to him with me.

Cross-examined. The prisoner was facing the prosecutor—he ran over the bridge towards the Borough, and I followed him about 40 yards till he got to some carts—he was running—I lost sight of him near the Borough Market, but I kept on the bridge looking for him, and presently I saw him coming back—he went to the drinking fountain, and got some water, and I spoke to the policeman—he sent me to fetch the prisoner—he did not go himself—the same policeman, who afterwards told me to fetch him, had searched him on the first occasion by the fountain.

ALFRED FULLJAMES (City Policeman 754). Taylor spoke to me, and I spoke to the prisoner, who was drinking at a fountain in King William Street—I said "Have you anything about you which does not belong to you?"—he said "No"—I said "This boy accuses you of stealing a watch from a gentleman on London Bridge"—he said u He must have made a mistake; search me"—I felt his pockets, and, not finding any thing on him and there being no prosecutor, I allowed him to go and in three or four minutes the prosecutor came up—Taylor stood by my side the whole time—I had lost sight of the prisoner, but Taylor went after him, and I followed with the prosecutor, and met the prisoner and the boy coming back—I said "This man also accuses you as well as the boy"—he said "They must have both made a mistake; I am innocent."

Cross-examined. My attention was first called to him at the drinking fountain—I searched him, and let him go and he went towards the King William statue—I am sure the prisoner is the man—he came back a few yards with the boy voluntarily—there are a good many pickpockets about London Bridge—I find that the prisoner was in the post-office five years, and bore a good character all the time—since that he has been employed at Hayes' Wharf, and bore a good character—he left the post-office in consequence of late attendance, but his character was good. The prisoner received a good character.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-661
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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661. MICHAEL CARMODY (17) , Feloniously wounding Joseph Cardinelli, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

JOSEPH CARDINELLI . I am an Italian, and a cabinet and looking-glass maker, and know the prisoner by sight—on Sunday, 16th April, about 4. 15 p.m., I was on Saffron Hill with my little boy, 10 years old, and saw five or six young men standing together; the prisoner is one of them—he had a piece of iron in his hand, which I thought was an old sword—I had the boy with one hand and some tools in the other—the prisoner tapped my boy on his hand—I asked him why he did that—he used a very vulgar expression, and I left go of the boy, and hit the prisoner with my fist on his mouth, and as I did so some one struck me from behind on. my face—I turned round to him, and the prisoner struck me with the piece of iron on the side of my head—I fell down senseless, and know no more—when I recovered I was at St. Bartholomew's Hospital.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. My little boy did not come indoors and say that you hit him—I did not hold up a hammer in a threatening attitude, I had all my tools in my right hand, and it is possible I may have held them up—you did not do this accidentally—my son had not been assaulted, he had been with me half-an-hour—the thing you had in your hand was bent over your hand, which made me think it was a sword.

By the COURT. My head was cut; I said in cross-examination "It was not a piece of hoop-iron, it was an old sailor's cutlass with a guard over the handle"—I have not seen it since.

JOSEPH CARDINELLI . I was with my father, who had some tools in his hand—the prisoner came up and hit me on my hand, which was hanging down, with the handle of a sword—it hurt me, but made no mark—my father said "What did you hit my little boy on the hand for?"—he swore and my father hit him on his mouth, and then another man came behind and punched my father on his mouth, and he fell and the prisoner hit him with the sword behind his ear—he was taken up and taken to the hospital.

Cross-examined. I was there a quarter of an hour before my father came, and you came out of a room and some boys told me to tell my father that you hit me—my father was not with me when you hit me—I was going to my grandfather's—a tram car was not coming along—when my father came up I told him of it, and it was after that that I felt the tap on my hand—I think you did not strike a blow at my father, but that you were trying to hit the tools which he had in his hand—it was an accident.

JOHN ALEXANDER MILLER . I am surgeon to the police—after being taken to the hospital the prosecutor was brought to me the same evening—he had an incised wound four inches long on the right side of his head, on the upper part of the temple, cutting through the pinna of the ear, passing obliquely downwards and backwards, severing the blood vessels in its course—it must have been done with an instrument with a sharp edge, because the edges of the wound were not ragged—he lost a quantity of blood; he was under treatment five weeks—he is quite well now, but he complains of pain in the wound, through its cutting a nerve.

By the COURT. I think the wound could have been inflicted by a piece of hoop iron on a bony substance.

HARRY CARN (Policeman G 101). I took the prisoner on 2nd June—I had been looking for him since April 16th—I told him I should take him for cutting Joseph Cardinelli across the head with a sword—he said "It was not a sword; it was only a piece of hoop iron."

Prisoner's Defence. I stopped some boys taking a lady's handbag, and they said they would pay me. The boy was playing on the tram line. I pushed him on to the pavement, and the boys told him to go and tell his father that I hit him, and his father came out and punched me on my mouth, and held up his tools, and I held up what I had in my hand and accidentally struck him on his head.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-662
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour

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662. ALFRED COXON (22) and JAMES GOODMAN (19) , Bur glary in the dwelling-house of Henry English, and stealing a book, the property of Joseph Newland.

MR. BEARD Prosecuted.

JOSEPH NEWLAND . I am a glass bottle maker, of 2, Minerva Street, Hackney Road—on 12th June, at 7 p.m., I fastened my office window, and closed it and locked the door, and gave the foreman, who lives on the premises, the key—this is my delivery book; it was safe when I left—when I returned next morning I found a pane of glass cracked, and marks of a knife on the window frame.

GEORGE ALFRED MARGETTS . I live at 9, Munroe Street—on 13th June, at 3 a.m., I was looking out at my window, and saw the two prisoners loitering about the factory gate—I afterwards saw Goodman at the window, and Coxon at the gate watching him—Goodman opened the office window, and Coxon made signs by moving his feet about, because the glass-blowing men work night and day, and they might come out—they then changed about, and Goodman went inside the factory, and Coxon opened the window and took out a book, examined it to see if he could find anything in it, and then put it back—I whistled for the foreman—Goodman walked rapidly away, and Coxon went into the factory.

Cross-examined by Coxon. I did not see you use a knife, you took the book out and replaced it—when the policeman came I went and pointed out the book to him, which was inside.

WILLIAM MAY . I am the prosecutor's foreman—the two prisoners worked in the factory for the late master, three years ago.

JAMES LOWDELL (Policeman J 95). On the morning of 13th June I heard a whistle, went towards the factory, and took the prisoners in custody—I found a knife on Coxon with paint on it—there were marks on the catch of the office window, and the paint rubbed away—the knife corresponded exactly with the marks on the meeting bars of the window—the prisoners denied the charge, and said they were merely throwing coke at the workmen in the factory—work was going on at the time.

Cross-examined by Coxon. I did not give the knife back to you after examining it.

Coxon's Defence. I gave him the knife, and he opened the two blades and gave it back to me, and I looked at it, put it in my pocket, and he came in and said "Give me the knife again," and I did so, and did not see it again till I got to Worship Street, and then he said there was paint on it.

GUILTY . Coxon then

PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court in June, 1885, in the name of Alfred Mason. COXON— Four Months' Hard Labour. GOODMAN— One Month's Hard Labour.

THIRD COURT.—Friday, July 6th, 1888.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-663
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Not Guilty > unknown

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663. EDWIN ROBERTS and ALBERT ASHFORD (14) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of George Thomas, and stealing an overcoat and jacket, his goods. ASHFORD PLEADED GUILTY .

Mr. EDMUNSON Prosecuted.

GEORGE THOMAS . I am a church-organ builder, and life at 26, St. Loy's Road, Tottenham—on Sunday night, 10th June, I fastened up my house securely, and went to bed at 9. 20 or 9. 30—I was aroused a little before 3 o'clock by a clicking noise, and saw Ashford with his hand extended over my head towards my watch; at the same time I saw Roberts clearly a few feet away with my wife's satchel in his hand—he stood in a glaring light between the open door and the kitchen window, there being no blinds—I immediately sprang out of bed, and gave chase to both prisoners—on leaving the house Ashford turned sharply to

his left; Roberts ran across the road—I followed the prisoners for a few yards, but being in my night shirt the stones cut my feet to pieces—they escaped; I returned to my house, dressed, and gave information at the police-station—Constable 440 returned with me, and searched the home, which was in confusion; we picked up several articles—I went to bed, and about 20 minutes afterwards was aroused by a loud knocking at the door—it was Constable 447, who produced a lady's cloth jacket and coat, which I identified as my property; they had been on the foot of the bed that night when I went to sleep—on the evening of 11th June, soon after 9 o'clock, I was called to the police-station, where I identified Roberts from others immediately—if I had known him all my life I could not have picked him out more readily—the Saturday night was the first time I had ever been in Tottenham—I have no animus in the matter, but I have been personally threatened, by friends of the prisoners, I presume.

CHARLES KEATS (Policeman H 447). On Monday morning, 11th June, I was on duty in Mount Pleasant Fields, Tottenham, at 3. 15, when I heard a whistle—I went in the direction of St. Loy's Road, when I saw the prosecutor and Endicott 440—in consequence of what was told me I searched a house, adjoining the prosecutor's, where I found this gentleman's coat and this lady's jacket—the house is occupied in flats; it is at the rear of 25—there is a garden there—I afterwards saw Roberts in Scales Road, Tottenham, about 11. 30 a.m. the same morning—I was in plain clothes; I said "I am a police-constable; I shall take you into custody on suspicion of being concerned with another in burglariously entering No. 26, St. Loy's Road, and stealing a gentleman's overcoat and a lady's long jacket"—he said I know nothing at all about it"—I took him into custody—when I saw him he was with four or five others apparently playing—at the station he was placed with four or five others, and was identified at once by the prosecutor, from whom we had had a description—when charged Roberts said "I was in bed at the time"—on 12th June, in company with Endicott, I arrested Ashford.

FRANK ENDICOTT (Policeman H 440). On the morning of 11th June, about 3 a.m., I was on duty at the police-station—the prosecutor came and made a communication to me, in consequence of which I accompanied him to 26, St. Loy's Road, and in company with Police-constable Keats I examined the house—I found the place in confusion, several things lying about the floor—entrance had been effected by the door; all the windows were secure, and the back door was bolted—on Tuesday I arrested Ashford—I found on him a latch key, which opens the door of the prosecutor's house; I tried it—Roberts was placed with others in the charge-room, and as soon as the prosecutor entered he identified him—he said "That is the lad I saw in the passage."

GEORGE THOMAS (Re-examined). When the prisoners were in my house I saw the front door was wide open; it was quite daylight at the time—when I was chasing the prisoners Roberts looked back, that is how I can swear so positively to him—the door was simply locked with a latch lock, not bolted—it was a little over 12 feet from my head to where Roberts stood in the corridor; it was as light as it is now, light being reflected from the kitchen door and window, and the front door being open placed Roberts in such a position that I could see every feature—it was about sunrise—I saw him more distinctly than I did Ashford, AMELIA THOMAS. I am the prosecutor's wife—on Monday morning,

11th June, I was awoke by my husband jumping out of bed at a few minutes to 3—I saw Ashford run from the door towards the field—I followed my husband to the door—I did not see Roberts at all—this cloak is mine, and the coat is my husband's—this cloak was on the bed on Sunday night; I placed it there—there is a garden at the back of our house and one to the next house—there are railings between them, not very high; you could jump over them.

GEORGE THOMAS (Re-examined). Roberts ran towards the open country in front of my house—Ashford went to the back of the next house.

Roberts in his statement before the Magistrate, said that he went indoors about a quarter to 10, and went to bed, and that he did not get up till about a quarter to 11 next morning.

Witness for the Defence.

FRANCIS SANDS . I live at 10, Stoney Road, High Road, Tottenham, and am a chimney sweep—on Sunday night, 10th June, I went home at 10 o'clock—just as I shut the door Roberts knocked at it; I opended it and let him in—I occupy the front room and the kitchen on the ground floor—I married the prisoner's sister—he occupies the first floor back room there, and his mother the other upstairs back room—there are two back rooms on the first floor—his mother gave the prisoner his supper—I was in the same room with them, not in my own—he had his supper and went to bed.

Cross-examined. The prisoner's father and mother and their three boys live in the house, and another brother-in-law of mine lives in the front room—I got up at three because I had a chimney to sweep—I bolted the door after the prisoner came in—I did not lock it and put the key in my pocket—I got up just before three, and went up to call my brother-in law, who lodges in the front room first floor—the door of the prisoner's room, the back room first floor, was open, as it always is, and I saw the prisoner asleep in bed; as I came down the church clock struck three—I live about two minutes' walk from St. Loy's Road—my clock had stopped—I thought it was later than it was when I got up—I go to work at 4, 6, or 7 o'clock—I went to work at 4 on this morning; a man came and called me; I was then in the yard smoking—I was not told the burglary took place at 3, but at some time in the morning—the prisoner got up on Sunday at 12 noon—the prisoner's bedroom door was open; a little brother sleeps in the same bed with him—I left the house at 4, and returned at half-past 4 the same morning—I only went across the road to sweep the chimney of the house next the Beehive; I don't know the man's name; he is a coal man—I heard at 12 o'clock the same day that the prisoner was in trouble—I did not go to the police-station; I went to the police court on Thursday, and have evidence—I have not talked this matter over with my wife; I only said it was a bad job, because he was in bed in the morning—Charles Nichols, the man I went upstairs to call, did not get up then; when I went back he did—neither my mother-in-law nor brother-in-law are here—the prisoner could have gone out and come back, but I don't think he did, because once he gets in bed it is a hard job to get him up—the church clock is about three minutes' walk off—the prisoner's bed comes straight to the doorway—the boy who sleeps with him is 13; he is at school.

EMMA SANDS . I am the prisoner's sister and the last witness' wife—I live at 10, Stoney Road—on Sunday, 10th June, the prisoner came in just

after my husband; we closed the door after him, and latched and bolted it; it is a latch lock—the prisoner had his supper and went to bed, and never went out of the house next morning till between 11 and 12—he sleeps on a different floor to me; he could not have gone out of the front door without my hearing him, because our door is not more than a few yards from the front door.

Cross-examined. My mother, father, and brother-in-law saw him go to bed—my little brother went to bed before the prisoner—I could not say what time my husband got up on the Monday morning; it was very early—the clock had stopped, so my husband told me in the morning after breakfast; I don't know what time we had breakfast—I do not think it possible my brother could get up without our hearing him; he was not so far away; I could not hear a bolt being undone—I have only talked about the matter to my husband since the prisoner was arrested—the prisoner never gets up on Sunday morning till dinner time—my brother works when he can get it; he is a plasterer's boy—he got up on the Tuesday morning after this about 10 o'clock, I think; I cannot tell—on Monday night he went to bed about 10 o'clock, I think; I am not sure—the prisoner was arrested on the Monday morn ing; he was bailed out, and was at home on the Monday night.

FRANK ENDICOTT (Re-examined). The prisoner was bailed out on the Tuesday morning.

ALBERT ASHFORD (In custody). I have pleaded guilty to this charge—I live at 25, St. Loy's Road—I do nothing now; I was at a baker's last—I am 14 years old—I know the prisoner; he was not with me that night; he was with me in the morning—we were bathing; I left him about 6, and did not see him again till the Thursday when we were tried.

Cross-examined. We were down at the Horseshoe bathing all day, and I left him at 6—my father turned mo out, and I used to sleep at this house, which was empty, and the people have moved in—I went in by myself; no other boy was with me—I did not carry off any things; there were some in the wash-house; I left them there to sleep on—I heard Mr. Thomas jump out of bed; he did not run after me; I was the only one there; I don't know what time it was—before 3 o'clock I had been sleeping in the next house, which was empty—one jacket was in the dog's kennel and one in the wash-house there—I did not go into Mr. Thomas's bedroom; I was just in the kitchen as he ran out of bed; I don't think he saw me from his bedroom door—I left the door of his house open; I opened it with this key, which belongs to our house—I never spoke to Roberts about this—we were not in a cell together; he was on bail; we have not been together till I came here—no one suggested I should plead guilty—I only slept on these jackets one night; I took these from the dog's kennel into the empty house to sleep on them—they were not on the foot of the bed; I did not look in the bedroom that night—the lady's cloak was in the dog's kennel; there was no dog there—there were a lot more things on the copper—the dog kennel is by the fence in the back yard—there were a lot of big boxes in the passage.

GEORGE THOMAS (Re-examined). Ashford's hands were empty when I chased him—Roberts had my wife's satchel; he dropped it at the door—I think this had been going on for some time—I don't think I awoke at once by the confusion of the house—my goods were moved in on Saturday

day, and then I went to see some friends, and I returned on Sunday night about 9, and my goods had not been touched with the exception of the bedstead, which had been put up—everything else was packed as they were delivered—in the morning one box was broken open and the other emptied; the place was in the utmost confusion, proving that some time had been taken up—many other articles were taken, clothes were taken


ASHFORD— Nine Days' Imprisonment.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-664
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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664. EDWARD JEWELL (50) , Forging and uttering an acquittance and receipt for money.

MR. MEAD Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.

JAMES SPONG . I am a general dealer, of 11, Dacre Street, Westminster—on 15th April I was knocked down by a hansom cab and was after wards taken to the Westminster Hospital, where my friend George Codd came to see me, and spoke with reference to getting compensation for my injury—I authorised him to say proceedings should be taken—on a Sunday in May he came and saw me at the hospital—in consequence of that the prisoner came to see me on Tuesday, the 15th May—he said Codd had told him I wanted him (Jewell) to go on with the job; that he (Jewell) had written to Mr. Eatwell and had received a letter in reply in which Mr. Eatwell said he would like to meet Jewell and me (" me and my client" were the words used) to try and come to an arrangement—Jewell said 20l. or 30l. would be better than nothing—I agreed to that—he asked my name and produced a piece of paper of some sort and read it to me, and I put my mark on it (I cannot read or write), and he wrote something on it—so far as I recollect these are the words he read: "Self v. Eatwell. I hereby authorise you as my solicitor to settle this action on any terms that you may think fit in my interests. To R. V. Chillcott, Esq. Spong, his mark. Jewell, witness"—he read me Eatwell's letter—that is the sort of letter that he read. (This, dated May 10th, acknowledged the receipt of a letter respecting the injury, and said he should he glad to meet Mr. Chillcott and his client with a new to an amicable settlement of the matter.) I said "Get all you can," and he then left—I was discharged from the hospital on Friday, 18th—on the following Monday, Whit Monday, I saw Jewell again between 10 and 11 a.m. in Mr. Beach's public-house—he said "I have settled your affair, Spong, for 20l."—I said "All right, if it's done it is done"—he said "Do you want your money?"—I said "Yes, I want something on it"—he said "I cannot get a cheque changed before Wednesday"—I said "I want a couple of pounds"—he gave me 2l.; no receipt was given—he said "I will meet you on Wednesday morning and give you the remainder, there is 5l. lawyers' fees, and if you think I am worth anything; if you don't think I am worth anything don't give it me. Do you think I am worth three sovereigns?"—I said "Yes"—I left then—on Wednesday, 23rd, I met the prisoner again at the Queen's Head, Peter's Street; he gave me 10l. and I put my mark on something he put before me—he did not read it to me or say what it was; I thought it was a receipt I was signing for 10l.—I cannot recollect what he said—nothing was said as to what it was—the document I put my mark to had on a receipt stamp—I cannot say whether this is the document or not, or whether this is the mark I made—if I had known that Mr. Eatwell had paid Jewell 25l., and not

20l., I would not have accepted 12l.—I was willing there should be 5l. for costs and 3l. for Jewell himself, and I was to have the remainder of all that was given by Mr. Eatwell.

Cross-examined. The prisoner told me he had settled it for 20l.—he only came to the hospital once; he then asked me if 20l. or 30l. would be enough, and I said "Get all you can"—I never said I would be satisfied with 20l.—I did not agree to take anything at all; I said "Get all you can"—when I saw him outside the, hospital he said he had settled it for 20l.—I did not say that was not enough—I told him I was content to take the 20l.—that was on Whit Monday—I had been injured and out of work some time and was in want of money—I am single—a few shillings were very necessary for me at that time—I told him I was very anxious to have something on account—I had not got money to go on with, and under those circumstances asked him for 2l., to go on with—he gave them to me and appointed the meeting on Wednesday to give me the remainder—I signed one paper in the hospital and one when he paid me the 10l., no other paper.

URIAH EATWELL . I and my brother manage our mother's (Mrs. Eatwell's) business, she is a cab proprietor—on 9th May I received this lawyer's letter demanding compensation in reference to an accident which it was alleged had happened to Spong—I wrote back this letter of 10th May saying I would be glad to meet him and his client with a view to settlement—on Monday, 14th May, the prisoner came and served me with this writ dated the 12th—I said 1 wrote to Mr. Chillcott with a view to settling this matter, and that it was rather sharp practice to serve me with a writ; he said "It is only an ordinary writ and there are no expenses"—I said "What do you think the matter can be settled for?"—he said "I think about 10l. or 15l."—he asked me to think over the matter and see him in the course of the week—then he said "I am glad the governor has put it in my hands; I can settle it as well as anyone"—I thought the "governor" was Mr. Chillcott, which was the solicitor's name on the writ—I then received this lettor (D.). (This was from Mr. Chillcott to Mrs. Eatwell, dated 15th May, saying Mr. Chillcott had instructions to treat for a settlement). On Thursday, 17th, I went with my brother to Mr. Chillcott in consequence of that letter—I had a con versation with Mr. Chillcott, the prisoner was not present—we did not come to terms—on Friday, 18th, I met the prisoner in Great Smith Street—I said "Good morning, I have been to Mr. Chillcott's office"—he said "What did you want to go for?"—I said "I have received a letter from Mr. Chillcott asking us to call upon him"—he said "I did not see the letter in the letter-book"—Arthur Bobbett was present—he said "Why don't you settle the matter?"—I said "We offered Mr. Chillcott 20l."—the prisoner said "Make it 30l."—I said "No, we won't give you that, we will fight it first"—ultimately I made him an offer of 25l. to cover all costs and expenses—Bobbett said "I think that is a very handsome offer," the prisoner said "I will get an official receipt and bring it round"—I said I would consult my brother—on Saturday, 19th May, the prisoner called round at my premises, bringing with him this receipt, dated May 19th—it was completed as it is now—I wrote out this cheque—he said "Make it payable to Mr. R. V. Chillcott," and I did so—our driver was summoned for negligent driving, and the case was heard before Mr. D'Eyncourt—my brother was present—between

the Saturday when I gave the cheque and the next Wednesday the receipt was in my possession—it did not leave my possession till this prosecution was commenced in June, and then it was handed over to the chief clerk at Rochester Row—this receipt could not have been in the prisoner's possession on the Wednesday following the Bank Holiday, the 23rd—after I gave the prisoner the cheque for 25l. he said Spong would have 20l., the other 5l. would be for Mr. Chillcott's and Jewell's law expenses and costs.

Cross-examined. When I first heard of a claim being made on us I wrote to Mr. Chillcott—Bobbett told me he had instructed Mr. Chillcott in the matter—he denied it—he did not tell me he was guaranteeing Mr. Chillcott's out-of-pocket expenses in the matter—Bobbett is in the same line of business as myself—there was a case of Cox v, Bobbett—I have had no litigation or law expenses with Bobbett—the prisoner said first "Make it 30l."—I met Bobbett and the prisoner together on Friday, the 18th—I did not suggest to the prisoner at that time that if he got Spong to accept 20l. I would make him a present—I said on the Monday "If you can settle the matter I will give you a trifle"—the sum at which it was to be settled was not mentioned as 20l.—the trifle was not mentioned as 5l.—I did not say I would if my brother consented—I said I would consult him—25l. was to cover all costs, including the trifle to the prisoner—I think Bobbett heard that arrangement—the prisoner did not call my attention to the fact that I had includod his trifle in the compensation when I gave him the cheque for 25l.—he did not ask me to cross the cheque—I should not have given him a cheque in his own name—he asked me to make it out in Mr. Chillcott's name—5l. was not mentioned between the prisoner and me as a trifle—I did not say "If you can settle this matter for 20l."—20l. was only mentioned when I offered him 20l., and he said "Make it 30l."—it was not then I said I would give him a trifle—I think he said "I hope you won't forget the little present you promised me"—I said "I will give you a cheque for 25l. to cover everything"—20l. was to be given to Spong, and the other 5l. was to pay the law expenses—he told me Mr. Chillcott would have three guineas—as I understood 25l. was to pay all the costs and the prisoner—I have seen Bobbett here to-day—I don't know if he heard all he conversation; he was present.

Re-examined. When I gave the cheque on the Saturday nothing was mentioned about a trifle to Jewell—he accepted the 25l. and gave the receipt, and I gave him the 25l.—then he asked me to give him the little present which I had promised him, and I said "No; I think you have done pretty well"—he then said he was going to give Spong 20l. and 5l. was for the expenses—if I had known Spong had not put his mark on this receipt, and knew nothing about it, I would not have given my cheque for 25l.

RYSE VALENTINE CHILLCOTT . I am a solicitor, of 88 and 89, St. Martin's Lane—about 8th May the prisoner came and gave me instructions with reference to the case of Spong v. Eatwell—in consequence of that I wrote the letter of May 9th to Mr. Eatwell—I received this letter from him saying he would like to see me and my client—I issued the writ, enclosing it in a letter to the prisoner for service—I wrote out this authority of 15th May and gave it to the prisoner, who brought it back on the same day, I believe—my clerk wrote this letter of the 15th May to

Mrs. Eatwell, and on the following Thursday Mr. Eatwell came, and I had a long conversation with him—next Saturday, the 19th, I went to Margate, and did not see the prisoner till the Wednesday in Whitsuntide Week, when I came up to town for a day—I neither signed this receipt nor authorised it to be signed—this cheque is drawn to my order—it is not my signature on the back, nor was it written with my authority—on Whit Wednesday, when I saw the prisoner, we had a long conversation about various matters, and I asked him if he knew any. thing about this matter—he said "Mr. Chillcott, that has been settled behind your back"—I asked for an explanation, and he said Mr. Eatwell, after leaving my office, had gone straight to Spong and tempted him with the sight of money, and, as far as I can remember his exact words, he said "You must write this matter off your books"—he did not tell me he had received a cheque from Mr. Eatwell for 25l. to my order—he never mentioned a word about a cheque—I have only received 10s., which the prisoner paid me, and with which I issued the writ—I have never authorised him to pay that cheque away—I have a banking account—it is the ordinary practice of my office to pay cheques into the bank—I said to the prisoner I ought to make it my business to see Spong to ask him for something for costs, as the action had been settled behind my back, and my words were, I believe, "He ought to be seen now that he has some money"—the prisoner said "It is no use bothering about him; he is only a coster"—I have never given the prisoner authority to give receipts in my name.

Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner two years; he has been useful to me in business, and has introduced business to my office, to a certain extent; a number of cases—I have generally made him a present for the business he introduced, a liberal proportion of the profits—when he mentioned this to me as a speculative matter I objected—he said Bobbett would pay the out-of-pocket expenses, and if nothing came of it it would be dropped—nominally I looked on Mr. Bobbett as my client—when Mr. Eatwell spoke of Spong being a poor man, I replied, to explain why I had taken him up, "He is a poor man, at all events he has good friends behind him"—the prisoner was the person who had introduced the matter to my office, and he had introduced Bobbett as the financial party in it—all the time I have known the prisoner I have always found him straightforward and honest, with the exception of one matter, which was explained away—the prisoner called at my office on the Saturday morning, but I believe it was before I arrived there—I missed him—I went to Margate on the Saturday for the Whitsuntide week—if on my return he had told me he had received a cheque for 25l., which he had asked to be made payable to me, and that as the plaintiff was in poor circumstances and wanted money ho had put my name to the cheque, I should have found fault with him most emphatically—when e came to me a week afterwards and described what had happened, I said to him "You were the plaintiff's accredited agent, and as such you had a right to settle the action behind my back, but you had no right to use my name"—I should not have prosecuted him, but I should not have spoken to him again, because I thought it was an unwarrantable proceeding—afterwards Mr. Bobbett came to my office, and tendered 5l. for my costs, being a part of the cheque for 25l.—at that time, as the matter had been mentioned at the police-court, I declined to receive it—

I only received 10s.; other expenses incurred were to be paid by Bobbett, and where the money came from I don't know.

Re-examined. I did not receive a farthing of the 25l., nor was it offered to me till the 5l. was tendered—I only had 10s., which was before the 25l. was paid.

GEORGE WALDOCK (Detective A)."Warrants for the apprehension of the prisoner were issued from Westminster Police-court—I apprehended him in Rochester Row, on 30th May—I read the two warrants to him; one was for forging an endorsement on the cheque, and the other for the receipt; he said "You might as well have let me surrender in the morning"—at the station I read the warrants to him; he said "I can prove that is all wrong."

The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate said that he thought he had authority to settle the matter, as Mr. Chillcott was away; that he endorsed the cheque thinking Mr. Chillcott would not mind, and gave it to Bobbett to pay away, and that Codd signed the receipt in Spong's presence.

GUILTY . —Three Months' Hard Labour.

OLD COURT.—Saturday, July 7th, 1888.

Before Mr. Recorder.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-665
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > hard labour; Miscellaneous > sureties

Related Material

665. WILLIAM SMITH (19), ROBERT WHITE (18), and THOMAS TAYLOR (17) , Stealing a gelding, van, set of harness, and other property, the goods of John Gibbons. Second Count, receiving the same.

MR. BROMBY Prosecuted.

GEORGE WARREN (Policeman T R 47). On the 9th May I was on duty in Handsworth Road, Hounslow, about 12.45 at night—I saw the three prisoners riding together in a trap, Smith was driving—they went about 150 yards past me, and halted opposite some gentleman's house—they were 150 yards off, but they spoke rather loud—one said "Don't get down here"—they turned and went up the Green Lane leading to the Handsworth Road—I placed myself behind the pillar of a gentleman's house, and listened to the sound of the trap—they went 400 or 500 yards up the road, and stopped—I listened for about a quarter of an hour, and heard the trap returning—Burlington had come up in the meantime; we went to the bottom of the Green Lane, and saw White coming out driving the pony and trap; the other prisoners were not with him; he was alone—I asked him what he had done with those parties that were with him in the trap—he said "There was no one with me"—I said "Where are you going?"—he said "I am going to the Cut"—I said "Where did you come from?"—he said "I came from the Cut"—I said "Whose pony and trap is this then?"—he said "Mine"—I looked at the shaft and saw a name, on it, and said "What is your name?"—he said "Robert White"—I said "Is that the name on the cart?"—he said "Yes," he rather hesitated, and then said "Well, it is my master's, Mr. John Woods"—I said "Is that the name on the trap?"—he said "I suppose so, I have only been with him since last Tuesday"—the name on the trap was "J. C. Cook, 32, Portland Street, Soho"—I said I was not satisfied with his statement; I should take him into custody—I then had hold of the horse's head; I took the horse and trap to the station, and Burlington took the prisoner—Inspector Loveday examined

the pony at the station, and saw on it the marks, as described in the printed information, of Mr. Gibbons's pony—the pony was afterwards identified by Rogers—I know Mr. Gibbons lost a van; I think it was returned afterwards broken down—Smith and Taylor were brought in about half an hour after White.

WILLIAM ROGERS . I live at 4, Myrtle Cottages, Hounslow, and am in the employ of Mr. Gibbons, a market gardener—a pony, van, a set of brass mounted harness, 5 bushel baskets, tarpaulin, old cloth, long waggon rope, three sacks, a mattress, fork, shovel, and broom were lost from my master's place on 23rd April—I have since seen the pony at the station, which we have identified, and had all back but the harness—I am sure the pony Jones shewed me is my master's.

WILLIAM LOVEDAY (Police Inspector T). At a quarter-past 1 a.m. on 19th May I was in charge of the Hounslow Police-station when the prisoners were brought in; White was brought first—I asked him whose pony and trap it was—he said "It belongs to my master, Mr. Cook"—about half an hour afterwards Smith and Taylor were brought in—they did not acknowledge White—I asked them if they knew White; they said "No"—shortly afterwards they said they knew him, and had been together—they were charged with stealing the pony—Smith said "I gave 5l. for the lot," meaning the pony, cart, and harness—I said "Who of?" he said "I don't know the man's name nor yet where he lives"—that was said in the presence of the others, who made no reply—they were then all charged with stealing.

JOHN BOWLEY . I am an estate agent, of 59, Winterwell Road, Brixton—Smith applied to me for a stable I had to let—he said his name was Thomas Wood, of 62, Stamford Street—I let him the stable at the back of 4, James Street, Lambeth, Lower Marsh—he took possession there and then, and paid rent.

THOMAS JONES (Police Sergeant T 28). On 19th May I went to the stables at the back of 4, James Street, Lower Marsh, where I found a tarpaulin, with the name on it, "J. Gibbons, Hounslow," six market gardener's baskets, with "J. G." thereon, a fork, and shovel, with "J. G." thereon, two sacks, a set of brass mounted pony harness, minus the pads—all those things have since been identified as Mr. Gibbons's, with the exception of the harness—I also found a box of butter, which has been identified by Mr. Davis, of Avory Road, New Bond Street—I also found another pony, which was afterwards identified as having been, stolen, a rabbit hutch, a dog, a goat, about 15 trusses of straw, about 3, bushels of wheat—the straw and wheat were identified by Ewett, and the rabbit hutch, dog, the second pony, and set of harness by Warren—I also found a waggon and a cart, identified by Mr. Lawrence, a baker.

Cross-examined by Taylor. There were from 10 to 15 trusses of straw in the loft, some tied and some untied.

GEORGE WATERS (Policeman T 445). I took Smith and Taylor into custody on 19th May near Hounslow about a quarter to 2 a.m.—I searched them, and found on Taylor a knife and key—on Smith I found 3l. 10s. in gold, 3l. 2s. 6d. in silver, 4 1/2 d. bronze, four ordinary keys, and a box of silent matches.

Smith in his statement before the Magistrate said he bought the pony in the market in the presence of a man named Shuttleworth, who asked him to shift some things for him; that he went with him; that Shuttleworth loaded things

into the cart, and asked him to put them into his stable; that then Shuttle worth painted names off the boxes, and that he (the prisoner) then drove them to Shuttleworth's house, with the exception of the box of butter, which he was told to keep for himself. White and Taylor said they had nothing to do with the horse and cart.

Smith in his defence said White had only been with him four days, and that Taylor had been with him a fortnight.

GUILTY . The Jury added that they thought White and Taylor had been influenced by smith.

SMITH then PLEADED GUILTY* to a conviction of felony in July 1885, in the name of WilliamSwain— Five Years' Penal Servitude. The police stated that Smith and Taylor had been acting together for some time.

TAYLOR— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

WHITE— Discharged on recognisances. The Guard Jury and the Recorder commended the conduct of the police in this case.

For cases tried in the New Court, Saturday, and Old Court, Monday and Tuesday, see Essex, Kent, and Surrey cases.

NEW COURT—Monday, July 9th, 1888.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-666
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

666. ROBERT FREDERICK HUTCHSON, Unlawfully making certain false entries in the books of the Sun Flour Mills Company, his masters.

MR. GILL Prosecuted; MR. FULTON Defended.

MARTIN BRESSLES . I am German and baker of 36, Warner Street, Clerkenwell—on 30th May, between 11 and 12 a.m., I paid the prisoner 6l. 2s. 6d., 1l. of which was copper and the rest in silver—he gave me this receipt without a date—it is not true that I promised to pay him next time—he said he would allow me 6d. a sack—the gross amount was 6l. 5s.—it is not true that he called on me on 13th June, and that I promised to pay him next time. Cross-examined. I had the flour on 22nd May, I got the bill afterwards, and I paid it on the 30th, three days after I got it, and he allowed me 2s. 6d. discount—my wife assists me in the business—I do the baking—she can talk English—she is not here—she was present when I paid the prisoner.

HARRIETT JOHNSON . My husband is a baker of Derrick Street, Rotherhithe—on 13th June I paid the prisoner 12l. 15s. in cash—he gave me this receipt (without a date)—t is not true that I told him on 25th June that I would pay on Wednesday or send it before.

HARRIETT DUGAL . My husband is a baker of High Street, Camden Town—on 21st June I paid the prisoner 12l. 10s. in cash, and he gave me this receipt (produced)—I did not tell him I would pay him next time, I told him not to call again.

Cross-examined. My husband knew the prisoner's father, but we never gave him an order, the order was given to the prisoner—we never had

an invoice, we lost the discount because the flour was late in coming in, and that is why I told him not to call again—the discount would have been 5s.; I have not got the books here—we should have paid him within seven days, but the flour came late and there was only five days, and my husband said he would keep the amount till it was due and pay it in full—I said that I would not deal any more with the Company, but the prisoner said "I am leaving on July 15th, may I call for another firm?"—I said "I will see when you call."

CHARLES BAKER . I am secretary to the Sun Flour Mills Company, 12, Devonshire Square—the prisoner was employed as traveller for the Company, and paid a salary of 150l. a year and something for daily expenses—it was his duty to solicit orders and collect the money—he was supplied with daily business sheets on which should be entered the name of the customer and the amount received, and there is a column for observations of anything the customer may say—on 23rd June, in consequence of something which happened, the prisoner was seen at the office, and after some conversation he volunteered that Johnson's money had been paid and he had not accounted for it, and that he had handed the money to his father—on the 25th he was again asked when his father was there, and his father was asked if he had received the money, and he denied it—the prisoner then said that he was proceeding from Johnson's to the next customer in a tram, and after leaving the tram he discovered that he had left his bag behind him, and ran after the tram and recovered his bag, and when he looked into it after the tram had gone he found his money was gone—he was asked if he mentioned it to the next customer he called on—he said "No"—he was asked if he mentioned it at home—he said "No, not till some time afterwards"—one or two other matters were spoken of, and he was then suspended—these three receipts from Bressle, Johnson, and Dugal are in the prisoner's writing—he has not accounted for either of those sums—these are the sheets for those dates—he has entered on the 30th "Bressle next time," and on the sheet of 13th June Bressle is again mentioned—there is no amount against Bressle on either sheet—on the sheet of June 15th is entered: "Johnson will pay next Wednesday or before," and on this third sheet: "Dugal will pay next time," in the prisoner's writing—the amount would only be entered if the money was paid.

Cross-examined. He came into the Company's employment in February this year, on a verbal arrangement only, as to the terms of payment and his duty—there was a bond of 400l. from the Guarantee Society—his father has been for a long time connected with the flour trade, and he was to introduce his son—we did not know till this matter arose that the father was paying his son's money into his bank—it occurred once that the father paid in his cheque to our credit, and we told him it must not occur again—the cheque came back not paid—that was about a week previous to 23rd June—it was a cheque for exactly 13l., not 13l. 6s. 3d.—I saw the prisoner about it, and he said that he had paid the amount to his father, and that was his cheque—the prisoner had not authority to pay into any of the branches of the London and County Bank, only to the Lombard Street branch—he resigned on 15th June, and on Saturday, the 23rd, he was told not to collect money again—he put in his notice; he was to give a month's notice to leave—when this affair came out, we knew that the father had been soliciting orders for us as well as the son,

and endeavouring to push our connection in his son's interests—the father was asked to come before the directors, and told not to do so again, because he was not in our employ, and if he solicited orders he would most probably collect the money—I think the prisoner was taken in custody on 27th June—on 22nd June I believe he paid in 45l. 17s. 6d.—our instructions to him were not to allow discount at all unless he got cash in seven days, and then he might allow 6d. per sack, otherwise he was to take a month's credit and pay in full—my attention was not drawn to dispute with Dugal about flour not being delivered at the proper time—I never heard from the prisoner of other customers complaining that seven days was a very short term for discount—I may have heard it from one of our other travellers—the thing is not given in the trade; it was rather our gift—there was no question to my knowledge with a customer named Bryant of allowing discount over seven days—this letter is in my writing: "You must not allow Bryant discount after seven days; he must send the money if you do not call"—he had probably asked the question, and I said "No"—if he chose to allow discount of his own pocket and pay at the of the month he would be doing that which was wrong—they would not have to pay for a month if they did not get discount, but if he had the money he ought to pay it in at once—he had been called upon to resign—I only know one instance in which his father paid us his cheque—I am not aware that that was the practice, but I know it now—there is no trace of that in the cash-book.

Re-examined. He was paid by salary only—these matters which your learned friend has been asking about are outside the matters we are inquiring into.

FREDERICK LAWLEY (City Detective Sergeant). On 27th June I went with a warrant for the prisoner's arrest, to 92, Stoke Newington Road—I knew he was in the house—I first went into the parlour and then into the kitchen, but could not see him; I opened the small door, and found him there—I read the warrant to him—he said "I have done nothing"—I took him to the station.

Witness for the Defence.

WILLIAM HUTCHINSON . I am foreign flour merchant, of 59, Mark Lane—I have been 27 years in the trade—the prisoner is my son; he is in his 27th year—it was by my introduction that he was taken as traveller by the Sun Flour Mills Company—I called first on that company in January, and the arrangement was made in February—it was understood between Mr. Baker and myself that I was to do my best to get customers for the Company—there was a bond of 400l. with the Guarantee Society for my son's honesty and integrity, and he paid the premium—I was aware of the Company's rule, by seeing it on the bills, that not more than seven days was allowed for discount—discount is usually given among millers within 28 days, and the customers who I was going to introduce were in the habit of receiving that discount—my son got an order from Dugal for 10 sacks of flour; there was a delay in the delivery, and I told him to report to the Company what Mr. Dugal said—I know that Dugal offered to pay within 14 days with the discount off, and I called on him on 30th May—this is the invoice, it is dated May 22nd, the due date was June 27th; it was paid on the 30th, I see by the receipt, but there is no stamp—payment on the 30th would not be entitled to discount—I told

my son in May that in cases where the payments were not made he should allow the discount and pay over at the end of the month—I was in the habit of receiving from my son the money he brought home after bank hours, and I paid it into my banking account, and paid my cheque into the London and County Bank to the account of the Sun Flour Mills Company—that occurred about a dozen times—the money was in silver, gold, and copper—my son lives in the same house with me, and he went through his accounts with me every night when he returned—he was brought up to the flour trade—on 15th June he called on me in Mark Lane, and told me he had been ordered to give a month's notice; he was very much upset about it, and I gave him instructions—on Monday morning, June 25th, I first heard from my wife of the loss of the money in the tram car—no other communication was made to me about it—my son was very much upset on the 15th and subsequently—he has always borne a good character, and was always at home in the evenings, and is a thoroughly honest, respectable young man—he lived with me, and travelled for my firm, Hutchinson and Hopminster—that firm was dissolved in Chancery in 1885, after which he travelled for me alone—he reported to me that Mr. Dugal was angry with him about the discount, and told him not to call again—I said "I cannot allow you to lose an old customer, I know Mr. Dugal, he is an old friend of mine, you must tell the Company that you were told not to call again, but you are sure that if they will allow the discount you will be able to retain the custom"—on June 21st he gave me 12l. 10s., and I drew a cheque for the amount, leaving out Dugal's account till it was settled—I paid in my own cheque, less 12l. 10s., and it was settled next day.

Cross-examined. I cannot say positively whether I received Russell's money; if I did I should make out a paying-in slip at once, and it would be paid in as soon as possible—he could not have received it early in the morning—I have no trace of having received it; I have looked, and do not see it—I did not tell him to falsify his business sheets; I did not suggest that the amounts should be omitted from the daily sheets in any case, nor did I suggest that an entry should be made "Pay next Wednesday"—when the money was received the money simply was entered on the daily pay-sheet—it was inconvenient for me to be dealing with other people's money; it was not useful to me if I held it for a month—two of my cheques have gone back—I made no entries on the sheets, but I have collected money, and paid it to the London and County Bank—I have paid it into my own bank a dozen times—I was at the office on June 25th—I was not asked in my son's presence if I had received Johnson's money—June 25th was the first time I heard about the tram car.

CAROLINE HUTCHINSON . The prisoner is my son—on the evening of June the 15th he came home and threw himself on the couch—I said "Why have you come home so soon?"—he said "Don't ask me, mother"—I said "I want to know"—he said "I have lost money"—I said "How did it happen?"—he said "I jumped out to go to a customer, and I lost the bag"—I said "Don't tell your father, or there will be a row"—that was the same evening as he gave notice to leave. Cross-examined. When the detective came he said "Where is the little gentleman?"—I said "Will you wait, and you shall see my boy; he is

not in the house; will you step downstairs? he may be there"—I did not know he was there; he had told me that he lost the money between 4 and 5 o'clock, and came home direct.

THOMAS GEORGE BARRETT . I am an old soldier, and am a conductor of the Southwark and Deptford Tramways Company—I know the prisoner as a traveller on the Company's cars backwards and forwards to the docks—he got into my car about the middle of June on my up journey to Tooley Street, and got out when the car was in motion, and went towards Major Road—after he had got 100 yards away he came after me, hailing me with his umbrella; I had not lost sight of him—he jumped on the car, in which there were several persons, and said he had left his bag there—I said "If you have, it is there," and he got in and took the bag up—that was in Jamaica Road, which is a rough neighbour hood, though we have respectable people riding; I believe the lowest company in London from Tooley Street to the docks—when the prisoner got his bag he was jumping out the reverse way, and would have fallen on his head, but I said "For God's sake stop"—it was about 2 p.m. Cross-examined. I believe the bag was on the right hand side near the door—the car did not stop at all—he was off it five or four minutes—it stopped for the other car to come down—it is a single line, and we had to stop on the loop—I kept my eyes on him because he came in the middle of the road with his umbrella—he did not say to me he had lost any money—the we often have things left in the cars, and we give them up at the police-station—I did not see him after or hear of him till his wife came to me last week.

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY, strongly recommended to mercy by theJury.— Four Months' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-667
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

667. ROBERT FREDERICK HUTCHINSON was again indicted for embezzling 6l. 2s. 6d.t and other sums, upon which MR. GILL offered no evidence.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-668
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

668. DANIEL NEWMAN (22) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Hyman Goldblat with intent to steal.

MR. HEDDON Prosecuted.

HYMAN GOLDBLAT . I am a boot cutter of 13, Batty's Gardens, Back Church Lane—on 19th June I went to bed with my wife about 11.30 after fastening all the doors and windows—about 1 o'clock I heard a table under my window falling, everything on it broke, and it fell upon the prisoner—I picked him up and he tried to kiss me and said "Let me out"—I said "If you will tell me what caused you to come into the house I will let you go"—he said "I have got something to say to your wile"—I said "What have you got to say?—he said "I have brought you some lodgers from the ship from Hamburgh"—I said "Where are the lodgers?"—he said "I have not brought them here"—I said "How did you come into the house?"—he said "I knocked a few times at the door and nobody answered, so I started to knock at the window; nobody answered me, so I opened the shutters, and after opening the window I came in"—I called out of the window and sent for a policeman, who took him to the station—I do not know whether he was drunk—I do not take lodgers.

REBECCA GOLDBLAT . I was in bed with my husband and was awoke by a table falling—I heard a rush and saw my husband holding the prisoner, whom I had never seen before—I have never asked him to bring lodgers to the house—I saw him given in custody.

THOMAS WILLCOX (Policeman E 148). On 20th June, about 1 a.m., I was called to 13, Batty's Gardens, and saw the prosecutor holding the prisoner by his shoulders—I said "What are you doing here?" he said "I have come to kiss the missis, as I know her," she said she had never seen him in her life—this is a ground-floor room looking into the street, and the shutters and the lower part of the window were open sufficient for a man to get through—the table was upset—a woman who lives next door fetched me, and said that she saw the prisoner get in at the window—he said nothing to that—he was charged at the police court and said "I have known the woman some time, I was speaking to her the other day as to taking people who came from foreign parts to lodge there"—the prosecutor and his wife denied that they knew him.

The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence stated that the prosecutor's wife asked him to bring her some lodgers, and he entered the room, as he had two people waiting for lodgings, and being drunk he fell down in the room.


He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at this Court in December, 1883, in the name of David Newnham.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-669
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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669. ERNEST BYFINCH (32) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Alfred Cooper, with intent to steal.

MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.

MARY CATHARINE COOPER . I am the wife of Alfred Cooper, of 88, Cassland Road, Hackney—on 16th June I went to bed about 11 o'clock, having fastened the house securely—the breakfast-room window was safe—I was awoke about 12 o'clock, went down stairs and found the bar of the shutter wrenched, and the window open—I saw the prisoner in custody.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not say that the window was left open that night—the catch was safe when I went to bed.

JOSEPH CROUCH (Policeman J 300). On 16th June, about 11.30 p.m., I saw the prisoner outside a public house in Laureston Road—he asked me to have something to drink and I refused—he then spoke about the weather—I secreted myself in a doorway and missed him for a few minutes, and then saw him go down Tennier Road—I found him down the area of 88, Cassland Road, with his face towards the window—I went down the steps and asked him what he was doing—he said he went there for a convenience—I saw nothing of the kind—his clothes were not disarranged—I got someone to knock at the door—I found the window open and the shutters partly open—I could see that they had been burst—the catch was nearly wrenched off—I said "How comes this window open?"—he said "I don't know"—I asked if he had any thing about him—he produced this screwdriver from his pocket, and this knife was found on him at the station and these silent matches; it was necessary for him to put his hand through the open window in order to get at the catch of the shutters—the marks on the window corresponded with his tool.

Cross-examined. You did not send me out some beer by the potman—you might have had a little drop, but you were not drunk.

ALFRED BARNES (Police Sergeant J R 4). I examined these premises, and found a mark under the window catch outside, where the frame is divided—a knife had been pushed up and the catch unfastened—the shutters inside had been burst, and the catch wrenched off the shutters so that they could be opened 18 inches—there was a mark which exactly corresponded with this screwdriver—I should say that they had been forced on the outside by pushing.

The prisoner called—

JAMES BOWDSIL . I am a boot and shoe finisher, of 14, Havelock Road, Well Street, Hackney—I have been to this publichouse to find out whether it was right that they took beer out to the policemen—I have known the prisoner five years, and always in honest employment—he is a plumber and gasfitter.

WILLIAM HENRY JONES also gave the prisoner a good character.

The prisoner in his defence stated that he was drinking at the Album, and when he came out the policeman asked him to go in and ask the young woman at the bar to give him some ale; that he did so, and took it out and the potman said "Why did not you wait till I came?" that he then went down the area for a, certain purpose, and the policeman took him. GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of hischaracter.— Four Months' Hard Labour.

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, July 10th, 1888.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-670
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceMiscellaneous > sureties

Related Material

670. WILLIAM HOUGHTON PLEADED GUILTY to a libel upon Anthony Pulbrook. To enter into recognisances of 100l. to come up for judgment when called upon.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-671
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Not Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

671. CHARLES MARSHALL (23) and JAMES DRISCOLL (17) , Robbery with violence on Charles Riley, and stealing 7s. 6d., his moneys.

MR. HUTTON Prosecuted, and MR. BLACKWELL Defended Marshall.

CHARLES RILEY . I am a labourer, of 6, Caroline Place, Lilley Road, Fulham—on 16th March, about midnight, I was coming from Farringdon Street up Holborn towards Fulham, having missed the train—a man asked me for a light at the corner of Queen Street—as I was giving him a lucifer two men came up—one caught me by the arm and another by the collar, and Marshall hit me on the stomach and felt down my pockets—as I stooped to get hold of him, I was hit on my nose, and the blood is on me now—I caught hold of his thighs to try to hold him—as 1 was falling I got a couple of kicks on the stomach from Marshall—I got up and ran after him and holloaed "Stop thief," and a policeman caught him—while I was running Driscoll put his foot in front of me, and threw me—I have no doubt the prisoners are the men—I was not the worse for drink, but I had had some.

Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. I had been to see a friend at Smithfield, and had lost the train, and was trying to catch an omnibus—I do not know how many public-houses I had been in—I had been paid at 12 o'clock in the day—I had not seen the prisoner before—I could see Marshall when he hit me—I had

my watch in my pocket—neither that nor the chain were touched—I missed the 7s. 6d. when I was knocked down—I have lost three weeks work through this.

Cross-examined. by Driscoll. I do not know the names of the streets where I saw you—you put your foot in front of me to throw me over once—that was after the constable had joined in the chase.

LAWRENCE KEOGH (Policeman E 220). About 12.15, on 17th June, I was on duty in Little Queen Street—I heard a cry, and saw Marshall running towards Oxford Street—I chased him down Newton Street, Macklin Street and Golston Street, and afterwards saw him run into a shed—I found him there under a costermonger's barrow—when I got to the door of the shed it was dark, and I could not see him, but I heard him say "For God's sake don't lock me up, I have a wife and two children to keep"—another policeman came up and we got a light, and then I saw Marshall under the barrow—I searched the place and found 2s. 5 1/2 d. on the ground—I took him in custody, and back to Holborn, where I heard the cry of "Stop thief"—directly he got to Newton Street he broke away and ran down Macklin Street, and I lost in the struggle 1s. 6d. of the money—I went alter him to the corner of Drury Lane and brought him back to Newton Street—I saw the prosecutor, who said in his presence "That is the man who robbed me of 7s. 6d., and struck me in the face"—the prosecutor's face was covered with blood—he was not drunk, but he had been drinking—I had seen him running after the prisoner—I took Marshall to the station—when we got to the corner of Wilson Street Driscoll put out his foot and tried to upset the prosecutor—another constable took him—the prisoners were taken to the station and charged.

Cross-examined. by MR. BLACKWELL. Marshall gave me an address—I made inquiries—I found him living at Manor Place, Walworth—I know nothing against his character—he told me he had been working at a laundry at Peckham for a twelvemonth with his brother—I did not make inquiries as to that—it was not very dark; the lamps were all alight—I was about 15 yards from Marshall when I saw him running across Holborn—the public-houses and shops were closed—when I got to the outhouse I knew he was there, and I called out "Is there anybody here?"—then he spoke; I turned my bull's-eye on, he could see I was a constable—I did not search him then; he was lying down—he did not seem as if he had been drinking; I could not smell drink.

Cross-examined. by Driscoll. I saw you trip the prosecutor over at the corner of Wilson Street—you were not taken in custody by the fish shop—that was about a quarter of an hour after I had seen Marshall.

FADY KENNEDY (Policeman E 179). I was on duty in Drury Lane, and saw Marshall in Keogh's custody—I followed about seven yards behind; there was a crowd—I saw Driscoll run out of the crowd into Drury Lane, Macklin Street, and Shelton Street—I chased him 10 or 15 yards—when I caught him he said "I have not done anything," and that he had not seen the prosecutor before.

Cross-examined. by Driscoll. I did not see you try to trip the man up, but I saw you run out of the crowd and run after him.

MARSHALL— GUILTY . — Nine Months' Hard Labour,


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-672
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

672. GEORGE CULLEN (18) , Breaking and entering the dwellinghouse of Emanuel Krost, and stealing two suits of clothes, three pipes, and three pipe-cases, his property.

MR. BRUSHFIELD Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.

EMANUEL KROST . I am a provision merchant, of 38, Brick Lane—on 11th June I closed my place at 8.20, and left about 8.40—I stayed out till 9.40, and went in at the side door and saw my barrow in a different place to where I had left it—I was looking to see whether it was mine, and made a noise with it—the prisoner then jumped out of the passage—I said "What do you want here—he mumbled something, and passed me, and made for the gate—I had a clear view of his face—he slammed the gate in my face, and before I could open it he ran into Flower and Dean Street—I was afraid to go up to him, and went back and found my place broken open—the door leading to the shop parlour was broken open, and another door was open—I missed from a chest of drawers a few dozen briar pipes, three of which were in cases—one was silver mounted, and had an amber tip, and another was mounted with silver and amber, also some cigar-cutters; two suits of clothes were on the ground ready to be taken away, and two linen shirts, half-a-dozen towels, value altogether 7l. or 8l.—I went to the station and described the man I saw—I went there again the next day, and picked the prisoner out of 10 or 12 others.

Cross-examined. This was in the back yard; it is not very large—there is a light from the public-house—the yard is divided from the street by a wooden door—the prisoner did not run, but walked very fast—mine is a wholesale provision shop—I saw a number of men in a row at the station—some were dark and some fair—there were two dark fellows, one on each side of the prisoner, taller than him, one was tall—I looked at all of them—the young man who jumped from the passage had no collar on—there were two or three without collars at the station.

Re-examined. I was not half a yard from the prisoner when he passed me in the yard—the lights at the public-house were full on, and the light came over into the yard so that I could see everything fairly plainly.

WALTER DEW (Policeman). On 11th June I was in Brick Lane with another detective, watching the prisoner and several other men from 7.30 to a quarter to 8, which seemed to annoy the prisoner, and he came across to me and began blackguarding us—we told him to go away; we were in plain clothes—I have no doubt he is the man—I told them what we should do if they did not go, and the prisoner said "G—blind me, if ever you attempt to take me I will chevy you"—that means stab you.

THOMAS UDALL (Policeman E 276). On 11th June I saw the prisoner in Fashion Street about 9 o'clock and previous—he was about 50 yards from the prosecutor's house, standing on the pavement—my suspicions were aroused—I ordered them to move on.

Cross-examined. I have seen him before in Brick Lane some time back—some of the shops were open at 9 o'clock; I was in uniform—I gave evidence on the remand; I do not keep a diary—I heard what passed with the constable, and made a communication to the detective on the Wednesday—it may have been on the 12th that I heard the prisoner was

in custody—my evidence was not given for a week after—I am positive the prisoner is the man.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-673
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

673. HENRY SALTER (45) , Breaking and entering the dwellinghouse of Joseph Edward Tomkins, and stealing 11 bags of horse hair, his property. Second Count, Receiving the same.

MR. WATTS Prosecuted.

JOSEPH EDWARD TOMKINS . I am a horse hair manufacturer, of 91, Hackney Road—on 28th May, about 7.55 a.m., I was aroused, and found my back gate open and my dog poisoned—the gate had been bolted and padlocked the night before—I missed a large quantity of hair from my workshops at the back, which communicated with the house—I saw some bales of horse hair at the station, value about 125l.—there were marks on them, by which I identified them—I recognised one bag as a Russian bag, in which the hair was imported, and I recognised the hair by its being only partially manufactured.

THOMAS BROCKWELL (Detective Sergeant). I went to 52, Hertford Road, on 5th June, and saw a horse and van back into the yard, and no one with it—I spoke to Mrs. Walker in the yard, and then went into the shed with other officers, and saw 11 large bales of horse hair on the floor near the door—I took it in the van to the police-station, and the prosecutor identified it that evening—on 12th June I took the prisoner in Upper Street, Islington, and took him to Stoke Newington Police-station, and then to Hoxton, and next morning he was placed with a number of other persons, and identified by Elizabeth Walker and Constable Hales as being the party who brought the van, and by Charles Wingrove, who let the horse and van to him—he did not say a word from first to last, and never asked what he was taken for.

CHARLES WINGROVE . I am a carman, of 29, Forston Street—I know the prisoner by his having vans at our place—on 5th of June he had a horse and van of me in the afternoon, and took it away.

FREDERICK HALES (Policeman M 113). On 15th June I was at Hertford Road at 4 o'clock, and saw the prisoner drive a van up, and jump down at the back yard gate—the van was empty—I saw him in custody on the 13th.

HENRY WALKER . I live at 52, Hertford Road, and am a wire worker—on 28th May I let a stable to two men; neither of them was the prisoner; I do not know him—it would take 10 minutes or a quarter of an hour to walk from my place to 91, Hackney Road.

ELIZABETH WALKER . I am the wife of the last witness—on 28th May, about 9 a.m., I saw a quantity of horse hair about the premises, and I saw it again on 5th June in a different part of the shop—I saw the pri soner that day bringing a van, which I believe was empty.

EMMA SENIOR . I live at 52, Hertford Road—I saw the prisoner on the 5th June about 11 a.m.—he went into the yard with two other men; I knew one of them—they had not got anything with them—about 4 p.m. the same day the prisoner brought a horse and van; he had some difficulty in backing it—he then went to a public-house, came back, and went away—no one else was in the yard.

Cross-examined. by the Prisoner. I was at the first floor window—you went in with one man, and came out with another, who was in the yard before you came there, a little fair man who was sitting in the yard—

I saw him as I passed to get some water—I saw you; no one has told me to say so—I was nursing my baby, and saw you come in with a pipe in your mouth.

Re-examined. I am quite sure I saw the prisoner there.

Prisoner's Defence. On 5th June I saw a carpenter who I had worked with. He asked me where he could get a horse and van, and said he would give me 2s. if I could get him one. He gave me the money, and I did so. He said "Back it into 52, Hertford Road, and leave it. "Isaid "Yes. "Iwas apprehended eight days afterwards.

CHARLES WINGEOVE (Re-examined). The prisoner said he wanted a van—I asked if the covered van would do; he said "Yes"—I asked him how long he would be—he said "Two hours at most," but did not say what he wanted it for—the charge was 1s. 3d. an hour—he left 4s. 6d. deposit—the two hours would be 2s. 6d.—I should have returned him 2s. when he came back, but he did not come—he has had vans of me twice before, two or three months ago—I did not see the van again till 11.30, when one of the inspectors brought it.

GUILTY on the second Count.

He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at this Court in May, 1882, when he was sentenced toFive Years' Penal Servitude .—Six Years' Penal Servitude.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-674
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

674. GEORGE GOODY (30) and EDWARD PAYNE (25) , Robbery on William George Pearce, and stealing from his person 3s. his money.

MR. BLACK Prosecuted.

WILLIAM GEOEGE PEAECE . I live at 6, Betterton Street, Drury Lane, and am an advertisement collector—on 25th June, about a quarter to 10 p.m., I was with one of my workmen in Drury Lane, who had hold of my arm—we met the prisoners—Goody separated us, and I received a blow on the back of my neck from Payne—Goody then hustled me, and crossed the road, and placed me in a stooping position, and rifled my pockets, and took 3s—he got out of my grasp, and Mr. Wilson, a stranger, ran and took him—they struggled, and I called the police—my man was struggling with Payne—Goody said "Let go, or I will knife you"—I was fairly done up, and I let go, as he was stronger than me, and he was arrested—I identified Payne at the station—I suffered for three or four days from twitchings in my shoulders and head—a medical friend advised me what to do.

Cross-examined. by Goody. I was not in danger of being run over by a Hansom's cab when you took me out of the road—you did not take me to a fried fish shop—I actually saw my money in your hand; it was a two shillirg piece and a shilling.

Re-examined. I was not drunk; I had had three glasses of beer.

ROBERT THOMAS HOOKES . I am in Mr. Pearce's employment—I Was walking arm-in-arm with him in Drury Lane—the prisoners met us—Payne laid hold of my friend by the arm, and turned him round, and Goody got between him and me, so as to disengage my arm from his and separate us—I walked two or three paces ahead, but my friend not following up I looked round and saw him in Goody's hands, and Payne came towards me—I tried to push by him, and saw Goody lay hold of my friend, and take him to the other side of the street in a stooping position, and put his hand in his pocket, and when he got to the other side the prosecutor stooped down, and I distinctly saw Goody's hands in

his pockets—I slipped by Payne, and before I could get across, a young man arrested Goody, and held him till the police came—I am sure they are the men—I was perfectly sober, and my friend also.

Cross-examined. by Goody. I did not see my friend struck; I was not directly facing him.

Cross-examined. by Payne. You parted us by putting your arm under my friend's arm—I did not link your arm to mine.

MARTIN WILSON . On this evening I was in Drury Lane, and saw Pearce and his friend linked arm-in-arm—the prisoners met them, and I should say it was Payne who parted them—Goody then hustled Pearce across the road, and I saw his hands in his pockets—I said "You are not going to rob a man like that," and caught hold of Goody—he struggled violently, and said "If you don't let me go I will knife you"—there was a crowd of roughs, who said "We will bolt him," and just as they were going to do it a policeman came.

Cross-examined. by Goody. I was not drinking with you at 4 o'clock that afternoon, but I was in the same public-house, and was hustled, and my hands were held up, and a shilling was taken from my pocket by the same party who robbed the other man; that party walked out, and I did not say that I would charge you, but I watched you for four hours, and I crossed the road and got you by the throat—I never saw you in my life before the 23rd.

By the COURT. I work with the police in Bow Street—my shop is not 10 minutes' walk from Bow Street—I am not what is called a policeman's nose; I only happened to be passing casually.

EDWARD MCDONALD (Policeman E 171). I was on duty in Drury Lane, heard cries of "Police," and saw Wilson struggling with Goody—I seized him, and asked what was wrong—Pearce came up without his hat, and said that Goody had robbed him of 3s.—I took Goody to the station, and found on him 2 1/4 d.

Cross-examined. by Goody. I caught you in Parker Street, near the fried fish shop; Pearce was three yards off, and Wilson had hold of you—Pearce was sober.

GEORGE BROOKER (Policeman E 414). I assisted McDonald in taking Goody—I took Payne the next morning at 1.15, and put him with six others, and Pearce touched him on the shoulder, and said "That is the man"—he made no reply.

Cross-examined. by Payne. Pearce described you when the inspector took the charge.

Goody's Defence. I was coming down Drury Lane and saw the pro secutor struggling in the road, I saw a cab passing and I took him to the fried fish shop, and before I left him Wilson came and seized me by my arms and shouted "Police!" half a dozen times like a madman, I thought he was a lunatic; two policemen came up and I was taken to the station. Only 2 1/2 d. was found on me, and I could not throw anything away.

Payne's Defence. As I went up Pearce and his friend split asunder; I went to Pearce and said "Get up on the path," he said "I am all right, I am going to look after my friend. "Isimply did a charitable act, as they seemed drunk.


They then PLEADED GUILTY** to previous convictions.


on 7th February, 1887, at Marlborough Street, and PAYNE on 17th January, 1884, at Maidstone.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, July 11th, 1888.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-675
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

675. JAMES HEATH (34) , Robbery with violence on James Palmer, and stealing a watch and chain, his property.

MR. EDMONDSON Prosecuted.

JAMES PALMER . I am an examining officer of Customs, and live at 40, Bloomfield Road, Bow—on 11th June, about 4.50 p.m., I was at the corner of Melville Street, and the prisoner put his hand on my shoulder and his other hand right up underneath and took my watch—I ran a few yards and my impression is that somebody turned me over, for I fell very heavily, and when I got up, a young man seized me and wanted to know what I was up to—I pulled myself free and followed the prisoner, but lost sight of him—a boy told me something and I went up a court and met him—I followed him into the main street again, and a number of people gathered at the entry and prevented my getting out—ultimately I found the prisoner in an urinal by a public-house—I seized him and demanded my watch, he said if I would let him go he would give it to me—I said "Let me see my watch," he took it out of his pocket, I seized it and put it in my pocket, this is it (produced), the watch and guard are worth 12l.—I took him out into the street, he wrestled away from me and ran off—I followed him down a back lane, where a man seized me—a boy shouted something and a man struck the boy on his face—I followed the prisoner down the lane, where a young man seized him—I then seized him and he said "If you are a father give me another chance"—a man came up in his shirt sleeves and trousers and said "I am a police constable, what is the matter?"—I said "This man has stolen my watch," he said "Where is it? "Isaid "In my pocket," he said "Let me see it, "Isaid "No," he said "I cannot take him unless you show me the watch," a woman said "He is a con stable, he lives in this house"—I looked at him, he had blue trousers on, and I gave him the watch—he took the prisoner.

Cross-examined. by the Prisoner. You did not strike me or use any violence except to pull yourself out of my possession.

Re-examined, He did not give up the watch till the game was up—the violence was used by his companions—my arm was dislocated, my shoulder bruised, and the middle finger of my left hand bruised and injured—I could not use it for some days—I also have a bruise on my thigh where they threw me down—I was not kicked.

SARAH JANE HUGHES . I am married, and live at 75, Myrtle Street, Commercial Road—on June 11th, about 4.50 p.m., I saw four men together; the prisoner is one of them—he put one hand on the gentle man's shoulder, and with the other snatched his watch and ran off; the other three ran after him and the gentleman—I took up the chase, and saw a tall dark man put his foot between the gentleman's feet and pitch him, but did not strike him—that was about 30 yards from where the robbery happened—I did not stop to see him get up, but followed the prisoner, halloaing "Stop thief!"—I never lost sight of

him—Mr. Palmer seemed very much hurt; he was shaken very much from the way they threw him.

GEORGE ARCHER (City Policeman 745). On 11th June, about 6 p.m., I was at my house, 4, Rutland Street, New Road, sitting at my tea, and heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I went out in my shirt-sleeves into Turner Street, and saw a crowd—I pushed my way through, and found the prisoner being held by the prosecutor, who said he had lost his watch—I said "I am a police officer," and took the prisoner—Mr. Palmer was excited; his left arm was injured, and he appeared to have partly lost the use of it—I found this part of the bar of his chain at the corner of Myrtle Street, where the robbery took place—the prisoner was surrounded by a large crowd—I took him back to my door, and went in for my coat and hat while Mr. Palmer held him, and several people were molesting him—as soon as a uniform man came up the crowd dispersed.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was very hungry, and a great temptation came over me."

Prisoner's Defence. I plead guilty to stealing the watch, but not to the violence. I have been convicted and had penal servitude. I was hungry and walked about night after night. I had pawned everything, and had not a bit of shoe on my feet. Nobody would employ me; I was an outcast. I snatched the watch, but I used no violence.

GUILTY . He then

PLEADED GUILTY** to a previous conviction at Clerkwell in February, 1884, of stealing a locket from the person, when he was sentenced to five years' penal servitude. He had still a year and ten days of his former sentence to work out— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

The COURT awarded 2l. each to the witnesses Hughes and Archer.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-676
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

676. WILLIAM BIRD (32) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Thomas Nicholls, with intent to steal.

MR. MOYSES and MR. MACNAMARA Prosecuted.

THOMAS NICHOLLS . I am a plumber, of 61, Palmerston Buildings, St. Luke's—on 29th May, about 1.20 a.m., I was awoke by a noise at my bedroom window, which opens on the landing—I was going to sleep and heard it again—I kept quiet and saw the prisoner's head and shoulders come into the room from the balcony; he pushed the blind on one side and opened the window a little further, and reached further in and struck a quiet match—I quietly slid out of bed and got hold of the poker—my wife awoke and said "What is the matter? what is that I said "I will have him," but he hastily withdrew—I jumped out at the window after him, shouting "Stop him," "Police"—this was on the third floor—they are model dwellings, and there is a balcony on each floor—the end passage leads up to the doors—a policeman shouted out "What as the matter—I said "He is coming downstairs"—he said "All right I will have him, you follow him down; but I felt dubious being in my nightshirt and the gas being out—I went back and got my rifle and searched the passages—on reaching the passage the constable said "He has not come down yet—my wife shouted "Tom, Tom there is another up here—I went up again, and when I reached the second balcony I saw the prisoner on the. steps—he said "It is all right, Tom, don't you know me?. I was invited up here or I should not have come: you know me, old fellow, don't you—I said "I don't know you, but I want

you," seizing him by the collar and threatening him with my rifle—I handed him to the constable.

Cross-examined. by the Prisoner. The window catch was broken—when I gave you in custody you said that if you had 20 years you would pay me out when you returned; you were in the hands of the police at that time—my rifle was not loaded.

By the JURY. It takes 35 steps to reach the balcony—the buildings are in two wings, and the balcony is between them; it is about 4 feet wide.

WALTER COVINGTON (Policeman G 270). On 29th May, about 1.20 a.m., I was on duty opposite Palmerston Buildings, and heard Nicholls call "Police!" "Thieves!"—I ran to the bottom of the stairs, and said "All right, I will stop him"—Nicholls came and missed him—Mrs. Nicholls said "He is up here"—I went with Nicholls, and took the prisoner on the steps of the second balcony—going to the station the prisoner said that he would do for Nicholls and also for me when he came out—I did not hear him say anything about his sentence.

ROSINA NICHOLLS . I am the prosecutor's wife—he woke me by creeping out of bed—I said "What is it and the prisoner, who was entering the room, hearing my voice ran off—my husband said "I will have you," and called to the police, and went out—he came back for his rifle, and went downstairs—I looked out in my night-dress, and saw the prisoner crouching in the dark by my next neighbour's window—I called to my husband "Tom, Tom, here is another one in the passage"—the prisoner came to the window and said "It's all right, missis"—my husband came, they met on the second balcony, and the prisoner said "It's all right, Tom; don't you know me—my husband said "No, I don't know you, but you are the man I want," and then the policeman came up—I had fastened the window when I went to bed; I had broken the knob off the catch in the morning, but it still fastened the window, and the bar was across.

Cross-examined. You did not break the catch off.

DAVID RODGIE (Police Inspector G). I examined this window at 7.40 a.m., and found marks on one side, where, if pressure was brought against it, it would open it—the knob was off before I saw it—on the sashes opposite the catch the panel was rubbed where some instrument had been put between the sashes.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "The window was open, and I was drunk."

Prisoner's Defence. The window was sound; how could I press it back with a small penknife?

WALTER COVINGTON (Re-examined). I found this knife and key on the prisoner—I took the catch off to show to the Magistrate; this is it here—all the marks of a knife on it, and this small piece, which is broken out of the knife, just correspond with the marks on the catch.


He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell in February, 1887, of stealing a watch-chain, and several other convictions were proved against him.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-677
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

Related Material

677. THOMAS WOOD (26) , Unlawfully assaulting Henry Higgs, and inflicting actual bodily harm.

MR. MOYSES Prosecuted; MR. KEITH FRITH Defended.

HENRY HIGGS . I am manager to Charles Wills, a harness maker, of 153, Upper Thames Street—on 22nd May, at 3.30 p.m., I saw the prisoner and two or three others dancing about outside, and taking of each other's hats and jumping on them; I feared they would break our windows, and asked them to move on—one of them asked what it was to me whether they broke the windows or not—they were not sober—one came into the shop, and asked me who I was to order them away—the prisoner was standing at the door—I told the man to go out—he put himself in an attitude, and I moved him out—the prisoner then came in alone, and asked where the fighting man was; two others followed, and dared me or any one else to put them out—I asked them to go out quietly, and not interfere with me and my business—they all three set me at defiance, and two of my assistants shoved them out, but as fast as we got them out they returned, but eventually we got the three out at the same time, and I shut the door and stood behind it, and let the big lock go, but the prisoner rushed at the door and forced the look off the hasp, but I had my foot at the bottom, so that he could not get in—there are glass plates in the door, 26 inches by 27—the prisoner then took off his coat and hat and dashed them on the pavement; the two parties who were with him got hold of him and held him back, but he got away from them, and made a rush at the glass with his clenched fist, saying that he would knock my bleeding eye out; the blow came through, and struck me in the eye, and took away my sight instantly—his fist struck my eye with the glass; I had several pieces of glass in my face, and it broke the pupil of my eye; I had to nave my eye extracted.

Cross-examined. I said nothing at the Mansion House about his threatening to knock my bleeding eye out; I asked if I should repeat the language—the clerk said there was no occasion—what I said was "Using an oath and striking the window"—he was under the influence of drink, but not drunk, as he was imitating fly catching on the door post—his fist was not cut, but his arm was, and he had to go to the hospital.

By the COURT. The door opens on to the street, and the windows an at the side—it is a closed shop front, which will not open—there are two panes of glass in the door, and the prisoner smashed the lower one.

JAMES BROWN , I am assistant to Mr. Higgs—I saw the prisoner and two others playing outside the shop under the window, and dancing on each other's hats—Mr. Higgs asked them to go away—the door was open, and one of them came up laughing and rubbing the paint down—they were asked a second time to go away, and the prisoner came up using abusive language—they were told again to go, and three of them rushed into the shop each striking out, and Mr. Higgs and me and another man had to use force to keep them out—we got them out so that the door could be closed, and I went for a policeman, but not finding one I went back, passed the shop again, and saw the prisoner on the pavement with his coat off, and his two mates pulling him about—I saw the window was broken—they got away quickly, I ran after them, and saw the prisoner in a court pulling up his sleeve, and showing a cut on his arm—a police man came and he was arrested.

Cross-examined. I did not see Mr. Higgs with a life preserver—I had gone for a policeman when the blow, was struck.

WILLIAM CORNELL . I am an assistant to Mr. Higgs—I was working at my bench where I could not see the shop—I heard a row in the shop,

and heard Mr. Higgs say "Go out of my shop," and saw one or two of our men struggling to get some chaps out—they all fell on the pavement—Mr: Higgs shut the door, I held it with one hand and Mr. Higgs did the same—the prisoner came up using abusive language outside—I can't say what he said, as there was a lot of jabber; he took off his coat, threw it down, and hit his fist deliberately through the window at Mr. Higgs, who was 18 inches from the window, with his foot against the door—I then saw him bleeding from two or three places where the broken glass had fallen on him—they began to go away, and I rushed out and got a policeman.

Cross-examined. The prisoner hit at Mr. Higgs through the window—I will undertake to say he was not pushed—I was not behind Mr. Higgs, we were side by side, with our feet against the door.

By the COURT. It is not a double-fronted shop—the door is usually open—there are two doors, and one of them leads to offices upstairs.

JOHN WALTER CARR , M.D., F.R.C.S. I was ophthalmic assistant under Dr. Tweedie, at University College Hospital—the prosecutor was admitted on 23rd May, and I saw him on the morning of the 24th—he had a jagged wound in front of his eyeball; through which part of the contents had escaped; the eye was very much inflamed, and extremely painful and tender; the inflammation got worse, and the eye was removed on the 28th.

JOSEPH MARTIN (City Policeman 671). On 22nd May, about 8.30 p.m., I was called and found the prisoner and two others in a passage in Upper Thames Street—the prosecutor pointed out the prisoner as the man who had struck him—I told him he would be charged with assaulting Mr. Higgs—he said "I don't know anything about it; I was set on by four men and dragged into the shop, and in the struggle my arm Went through a window in the door"—his arm was cut—he was drunk and did not know what he was doing—he kept repeating the same sentence over and over again—going to the station he said something about knocking the prosecutor's bleeding head off—he smelt very-strongly of drink.

Cross-examined. He spoke in a rambling way, and did not seem to know what he was saying, and he was not steady on his pins—he bears the character of a quiet, peaceable young man—he was kept in custody three weeks before he was admitted to bail—he had a cut his arm about an inch long—if he had been pushed up against the window, being unsteady on his legs, I should expect to find no cut on his hand, but a cut on his arm, which I did find—I took him to the hospital, and he was kept there till his arm was dressed—he said at the hospital that he had had some wine—he did not say that he had been a teetotaller.

Witness for the Defence.

CORNELIUS CONNELL . I am a cook, and live at 17, Thomas Street, Burdett Road—the prisoner and I had been working at the same place in the City on this day—he has, I believe, been a teetotaller for some time—I have not seen him drunk for some time—he was offered some Australian wine, and took a tidy drop of it, and we were in liquor, and got larking among our three selves, and Goodwin, who was with us, got thrown out into the road in Thames Street by one of the shopmen, I believe—I do not know whether he had gone into the shop; he was a little in front of us and one of the shopmen, I believe it was the witness Brown, came and deliberately punched me on my nose.

By the COURT. I was then on the kerb outside the shop, and the prisoner, seeing me struck, threw off his coat and went to punch the man who punched me, who ran into the shop and closed the door after him—the prisoner ran after him, and we caught hold of the prisoner, not only us, but other men as well, and three of us went against the door, and whether we fell or whether we pushed him through I don't know—I do not believe he deliberately struck at Higgs through the glass, because we had hold of him at the time and his fist was not cut—we took him up a narrow street and were tying our handkerchiefs round his arm when the prosecutor came—Goodwin and I were fined 20s. each for the assault, and Brown tried all he knew to make me assault him going to the station—the prisoner was locked up for three weeks while the prosecutor was recovering—I never saw a life preserver.

Cross-examined. I don't believe I was ever in the shop, I believe Goodwin was, and he got thrown out—I was very drunk—I remember being struck and the window breaking—the prisoner tells me he was shoved through it—I cannot swear that he did not punch at it.

By the COURT. When he took off his coat he rolled up his sleeves as quick as he could—he pulled them up, but they were partly rolled up.

The prisoner received a good character.

J. W. CARR (Re-examined). It was not necessary to be a blow which cut the eye, any piece of glass would cause the injury if it struck the eye—a blow from a fist would not be sufficient to cause it; it is almost certain that it was done by glass—there was no bruise on the eye—the glass need not necessarily have been projected with great force—it would be possible for the man's fist to go through the window without cutting his hand, but it is improbable.

GUILTY. Very strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his character. Mr. Frith stated that the prisoner's friends would make some compensation to the prosecutor.—Judgment respited.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday and Wednesday, July 10th and 11th, 1888.

Before Mr. Recorder.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-678
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

678. WILLIAM TOWNSEND (38) was indicted for wilful and corrupt perjury in a statement of affairs filed in the Court of Bankruptcy. Other Counts varying the form of charge.


HENRY ALFRED STACEY . I am Superintendent of Records in the Court of Bankruptcy—I produce the files of proceedings in the matter of E. Stone and Co., William Townsend, and Henry Townshend, sen.—the three names refer to the prisoner—the statements of 10th February, 1887, and of 5th and 27th February, this year, are upon the file—the first petition was filed on 2nd December, 1886, against E. Stone, trading as E. Stone and Co.; the second on 7th January, 1887, against William Townsend, trading as E. Stone and Co.; and the third on 20th January, 1888, against Henry Townshend.

GEORGE BLAGRAVE SNELL . I am senior official shorthand writer of the Court of Bankruptcy—I produce transcripts of the shorthand notes taken by me of the prisoner's evidence given in the Bankruptcy Court

on 16th and 23rd April, 1888—the transcripts are on the file of proceedings produced—they are correct—the evidence was taken before Mr. Registrar Linklater, who, or whose clerk, administered the oath to the prisoner in accordance with the usual practice.

RICHARD HUMPHREY . I am an officer appointed to administer oaths in Bankruptcy—I took the prisoner's oath to this statement of affairs filed on 13th February, 1888—that statement and the oath included "List K," the "Deficiency Account."

JOSEPH HARLOW . I am a commissioner to administer oaths in the Supreme Court of Judicature—on 27th February last I administered the oath to the debtor as to the truth of the statement of affairs filed by him on 28th February, 1888.

FANNY JONES . I live at 7, Gratton Street, West Kensington—early in 1886 the prisoner engaged me as manageress of his business at 56, Hammersmith Road—he was a wholesale bedding manufacturer and furniture of all kinds, it was carried on in the name of E. Stone and Co.—I only knew him by the name of Stone—a few months after I went into his employment he took other premises in Charterhouse Square—I believe a similar business was carried on there, I did not go to it—I continued in his employ until December, 1886; he left about the end of October, 1886; he came back for the remainder of his goods and removed them, but not all—this tin box (produced) was kept at the Hammersmith premises, locked—he kept the key; the box was kept in the office at first, afterwards it was sent up to my rooms for me to take charge of—he kept in it his books and bills and cheque-books relating to the other house of business—it was removed in November by a man called Bill—that is the man (Pomeroy); it was locked when he took it away—other things went with it, part of the stock; I believe they went to St. Dunstan's Gardens—Pomeroy brought a message that Mr. Stone had sent him for the box, upon which I gave it up—after the prisoner left goods were delivered, but there were no sales, they were sent on to Charterhouse Square—no goods came in November; when they, were received the prisoner tore the labels off; he would come in of an evening and see whether there were any messages or letters—I continued there till the landlord took possession in November; he had a latch-key; the office was closed, I gave him the key—he did not take possession of any of the books or papers relating to the business there—there were none left—during the time I was there, there was no seizure by the Sheriff; I believe a sheriff was once put in, but he went out again; he did not seize any books or papers, I did not see one after the prisoner left.

Cross-examined. by the Prisoner. I believe this is the same tin box that was there; if not it is one made like it—I am aware what it contained, because I saw you open it in my kitchen—it contained bills relating to Southampton, old circulars, and circulars that had been sent to you, and injured cheque-books, counterfoils—I believe that was all I saw except old books—I never opened them—I saw one crate of Dresden china come there—you told me it was worth 30l. odd—you did not unpack it—that was just about the time you were moving away—it was sent on to Charterhouse Square by Bill—the landlord took possession on the Sunday—I gave him possession on the Monday morning—I am sure it was not on the Sunday—I remember a large hamper in the office—I saw the inside of it; it contained things packed up ready to be removed; it was

left in the shop; it contained tools I believe—there were no books in it.

Re-examined. During the time I was in the prisoner's emplay he paid me no wages, only for work that I did.

JOHN BATHELOR . I live at 1, Brunswick Terrace, Blyth Road, and am in the employment of Mr. Sage, who was the owner of 56, Ham mersmith Road, in December, 1886—the prisoner left that house before December, 1886—in December, 1886, I went to the premises to take possession, and found the door open—there were only a few bill-heads of Southampton there; no books or papers.

Cross-examined. I cannot remember the date I took possession—it was not on a Sunday—I put a man in possession on Monday morning—we found the door open soon after 6 a.m. I should think—you sent Pomeroy to take the things away soon after 6 o'clock, and I would not let him have them.

ROBERT ALFRED HARGROVES . I have a business at 41, Charterhouse Square—in August, 1886, the prisoner took from me a portion of those premises on a three years' agreement—he remained there about three months; he went away and locked the place up, and we could not get in for some days—then we considered the place was deserted, and forced an entrance—I found these three trusses of hay, and a few iron supports of mattresses—there were no books of any sort there—this box was not there—I never took possession of any books—there was not a seizure by the Sheriff during the prisoner's tenancy there.

Cross-examined. I never knew anything of a seizure by the Sheriff—I don't know that my clerk gave you written notice of a claim for rent.

JOSEPH WALTER POMEROY . I live at 23, Palmer Street, West Kensington, and was in the prisoner's employment at 56, Hammersmith Road—I went with him there when he first started there—he carried on business there under the name of E. Stone and Go.—I knew him as Mr. Stone when he first employed me—I went with him to Charterhouse Square, and was there for five or six weeks—he had this black tin box at Hammersmith Road—I could not say what he used it for—he told me to fetch it from there and take it to 37, St. Dunstan's Road, his private house—the box was locked, it was not very heavy when it came from Hammersmith Road—I also took a sewing machine—in December, 1886, I ceased to be in his employ—I again went into his employ as porter in October, 1887, when the Bon Marche premises were opened at North End Road, West Kensington—during the time the prisoner was at the Bon Marche he kept the black tin box in his private store—I always saw it there; I could not say what he used it for—I removed the private furniture from St. Dunstan's Road to the Bon Marche; I was employed a week doing that—in the latter part of February this year he gave the black tin box to me, and told me to take it round to my house; he should want it, as he was going on a journey—it was locked; it was heavy—I took it to my house—after that, in consequence of something that happened, I took it to Mrs. Todd, of Abdale Road, Shepherd's Bush—the prisoner went away about a fortnight after I took the box to my house—at the Bon Marche the prisoner had a private storeroom, which had nothing to do with the business—I assisted in removing out of stock, from instructions, a suite of furniture to his bedroom—shortly after that there was a sale by the Sheriff at the Bon Marche—I assisted in removing the over-mantel out

of stock into the private storeroom—the prisoner lived on the Bon Marche premises—the sale by the Sheriff under the execution and against the Bon Marche was after I had removed the black tin box—Cox assisted me in removing the things out of stock—there were some pictures also taken to the storeroom; they came from Crisp's, I believe—a cot was taken out of stock—the sale by the Sheriff took place some time in February, I believe; that was between the time I received the tin box and the prisoner going away—after the sale by the Sheriff, all the furniture from the storeroom and the dwelling part of the Bon Marche was removed to 10, Vereker Road—the Bon Marche was very extensive premises, two large houses joined together—one of the houses was used for living, the prisoner lived there on the second floor—the suite of furniture taken out of stock, the over-mantel, cot, and pictures, were taken to 10, Vereker Road.

Cross-examined. I would not positively swear this is the same black tin box that was at Hammersmith Road, but it is very like it—I never saw what the box contained—I will not swear that these books (produced) were those of E. Stone and Co.—I know nothing of those books—I could not say if possession was taken of 56, Hammersmith Road, on Sunday—Mr. Lumsden was with me there on Sunday—I came to 37, Dunstan Road, on Sunday—I did not go to Hammersmith Road after Sunday—you moved to 41, Charterhouse Square after possession was taken—I could not say if a big white hamper at Hammersmith Road contained any papers, books, or documents—I did not see the Sheriff come into 41, Charterhouse Square; I only know he came there by your telling me—after I left Charterhouse Square, J was employed at the Bon Marche by Mr. Townshend, sen., your father—he was proprietor of the Bon Marche to my knowledge—the store was private—Mr. Townshend, sen., was pretty well always in the Bon Marche till the last month—a blue velvet suite of furniture was taken out of the showroom from the stock before the Sheriff,'s sale I believe—Mrs. Townsend told me to take it away, you did not—I cannot say whether or no it was entered—you are not Mr. Townshend, sen.—Cox helped me to take the over-mantel away—you gave me orders to take it upstairs—10, Vereker Road, is not more than 300 yards from the Bon Marche—you gave me no instructions as to moving goods from the Bon Marche there—you were not there to help cart goods away—I got the vans from Emerson's, in which the goods were taken, Mrs. Townsend engaged them; you were not at home—all the goods from the private store and from the dwelling place of the Bon Marche premises were removed to 10, Vereker Road, by your wife's instructions—I removed furniture from St. Dunstan's Road to the Bon Marche, that was yours, I believe, and it took me a week—I never Saw you at 10, Vereker Road.

Re-examined. I went to Charterhouse Square about five weeks before 7th December—I saw no crate of china at 56, Hammersmith Road—I was there to receive all goods that came in.

By the COURT. I was porter; it was not my duty to keep books—I have seen some books that looked like ledgers and day books, business books, in the office—I have seen them open sometimes, I have never been in the office; they were mostly there as in an ordinary business place they would be, for the purpose of making entries in—I was given to understand that Mr. Townshend, sen., was proprietor of the

Bon Marche; that is all I know about it—the prisoner took superintendence of the business—I don't think he ordered goods—he superintended the sale of goods night and morning—he went out on business, so far as I know, in the middle of the day.

By the JURY. First I knew the prisoner as Edward Stone, trading as Stone and Co.—shortly after I understood he was not Stone, but H. Townsend, and when I went into his employ at the Bon Marche I knew him as Townshend.

JAMES LUMSDEN . I was engaged as foreman and chair-maker by the prisoner at Charterhouse Square—I was at Hammersmith Road first, but not as foreman there—I knew the prisoner as E. Stone and Co., that was the name he traded in at Hammersmith Road—I was with him up to the time he left Charterhouse Square in November, 1886—no business books or papers relating to the business were left behind at Charterhouse Square—I went several times to the prisoner's house, 37, St. Dunstan's Road, after he had left Charterhouse Square—I took from there to Victoria Station two business books, similar in size and shape to these, wrapped in brown paper—the prisoner's sister-in-law handed them to me at St. Dunstan's Road to go on to Victoria Station with them, and said the prisoner would meet me there—that was about 9th November, 1886—I gave them to the prisoner at Victoria Station—he took them and told me to go to a solicitor in the Vauxhall Bridge Road, and ask if Mr. Stone had been there—I left the prisoner at the Windsor Castle, at the corner by Victoria Station.

Cross-examined. I came on a Sunday to tell you Mrs. Jones had fainted away; I wanted my wages—I can't say why she fainted—no one was in possession then that I know of—I never saw you after you gave me 5s.out of 30s.—I understood you went to the solicitor at Vauxhall Bridge Road to serve Batchelor with a writ for locking you out of the premises—I never saw a large hamper at Hammersmith Road, I was never inside the office there, it was always locked—the books I took to you at Victoria were oblong day books, the same as these, I know nothing more about them.

WILLIAM ROOKE . I am a Fellow of the Society of Accountants and Trustee in the Consolidated Bankruptcy—I received this black tin box after my appointment as trustee—it was locked—I caused it to be picked in my presence—these (produced) are the books and papers which were in it; there were a very large number of bills, business papers, bills of all kinds, three bankers' pass-books, paying-in and cheque books—the banking accounts were kept in the names of William Townsend, Messrs. Townsend and Co., William Townshend and Co., E. Baker, A. Martin, and Stone and Co.—there was no pass-book in the name of Baker, I was referring to the paying-in book—there is a day-book referring clearly to the business of E. Stone and Co.; there is a ledger, it is difficult to say if that refers to the same name—among other papers in the tin box in which the ledger was found are a number of invoices made out on E. Stone and Co.'s bill-heads, and those entries correspond to the entries in this book; although there are no dates in the day-book these entries are in the day-book and franked—I have gone through the papers in the tin box and found statements of accounts omitted—in consequence of something that happened I went to 10, Vereker Road, with the tipstaff of the High Court and two clerks on 26th March this year—I there

discovered a large quantity of furniture, stock of various kinds, bedding, beds, blankets, china, glass, pottery, and other goods—I found it in various places, up the chimneys, in the coal cellar, in the children's cradle, under the mattresses—I produce a bunch of keys which I received after my appointment as trustee from Lieut. Col. Millman, the governor of Holloway gaol—on it is a key that fits and opens the tin box.

Cross-examined. I was appointed receiver in the estate on 14th March this year—I cannot say whether this book refers to E. Stone and Co.; there are entries of E. Stone and Co. in it—I don't know anything about other books—the three bankruptcies were all consolidated in the name of Henry Townshend, senior—I cannot say if there was such a person—I cannot say if you were proprietor of the Bon Marche—the Court was satisfied that the three petitions were against the same person and they were consolidated—I found several lots of goods at 10, Vereker Road, and among them china and pottery not unpacked, but as it came from the potteries—there were a number of bills of sale on the goods at Vereker Road—the only one I have official knowledge of was dated 12th March, 1888—that had been renewed—that did not include all the goods at Vereker Road belonging to the Bon Marche.

GEORGE BROWN ( Warder, Holloway Prison). On 11th April I searched the prisoner when he was brought to Holloway prison—I took from him a bunch of keys, like these—I entered them in the property book and kept them in my possession till they were handed over to some one; I was not present when they were handed over—the prisoner had them in one of his pockets, I think his trousers pocket.

CHARLES JOHNS . I am in the employ of the Tower Hire Furnishing Company—on 12th March, I believe, the prisoner executed this bill of sale—I was then in possession at the Bon Marche, I did not know of the execution of the bill of sale—I assisted in the removal of the articles from the Bon Marche to 10, Vereker Road—on 11th March this year, the day before the bill of sale, I was in possession on behalf of the Tower Hire Furnishing Company at 10, Vereker Road, that was on a Sunday—I saw the prisoner there on that day.

Cross-examined. I came into possession for non-payment—you were not present when the goods were removed, but you were there on the Sunday, 11th March, before the goods were removed, putting the house a little bit straight—I assisted you—I did not see you with any papers or documents of any kind—I did not see you stuff things up chimneys.

GEORGE TURNER . I was formerly at the Bon Marche, and went from there to 10, Vereker Road. as page—on 11th March this year I was at 10, Vereker Road; the prisoner was there on that day—I again saw him there on the following Sunday—he was arranging pictures and looking-glasses in one room—I only saw him in one room.

Cross-examined. I was there when the removal from the Bon Marche to Vereker Road took place—you were not present—I saw you twice at Vereker Road on two Sundays—I had been at Vereker Road a little more than a fortnight when you were there—I never saw you after the second time I saw you there.

By the COURT. I saw him on the 11th, and on the Sunday after that—he was my master.

LOUIS VINCENT SALE . I am a draper's manager, and live at 109,

North End, West Kensington—I was in the employment of the prisoner or his father, at the Bon Marche—I went with Mr. Rooke, the trustee, to 10, Vereker Road, towards the end of March—I identified stock there, of the value of some hundreds of pounds, which had previously been in stock at the Bon Marche; the trustee valued it—I can particularly swear to two rolls of Silesia lining with my mark on them, as having been in stock at the Bon Marche.

Cross-examined. You engaged me as buyer and manager of the drapery department—this is the agreement which Mr. Scudamore drew up and witnessed; you signed it—I was in the employment about seven weeks—a Mr. Townshend, senior, was there—I was discharged because I told him what I had heard in the City respecting your character—he cursed and swore, and if he had not been an old man I should have given him a thrashing—I am not aware what amount of capital the Bon Marche contained; I should say not a penny—I don't believe there was 3,800l. in the concern—the goods are in the hands of the trustee; they have my mark on them—it took about three pantechnicon van loads to remove the goods; there was some up the chimney, under the mattresses, and other places, where no ordinary man would keep stock.

Re-examined. I saw the prisoner sign this signature, "Henry Townshend, senior," to the agreement to employ me.

Witness for the Defence.

THOMAS PRITCHARD . I am a commission agent—I was manager to Hurst, Pritchard, and Co., who were creditors to the firm of E. Stone and Co.—I was present at a meeting of creditors in Gray's Inn Road; Mr. Smith, the trustee, Mr. Anderson, who was on the committee of inspection, and I believe some one else was there—the cause of the meeting was, I believe, that you wished to make an offer through the trustee and the committee of inspection to pay 5s. in the pound, I think, on Stone and Co.'s debts—the committee said they would accept it if you would pay Mr. Anderson's expenses, which were about 40l. or 50l.—when Mr. Townshend, senior, was spoken to about it, he refused to pay the 50l., and for that reason the whole thing fell through—since that you have paid none of the creditors that I remember—I remember you paying Smith a few shillings—I knew something was going on between your father and Mr. Canwarden about Stone and Co., about settling with your creditors—you called the creditors together yourself—I was one of the directors of the Bon Marche, Limited—everything I saw there was always straightforward and correct; I never saw anything wrong—I went into the office; I saw two clerks and a boy there, I believe—we had trouble with two of the buyers, who were discharged; you told me about that—I saw Mr. Townshend, senior, there several times—he sold the Bon Marche to a limited company—there were a great many assistants there.

The prisoner in a long defence alleged that the books produced were not those of Stone and Co.; that as to the papers in the tin box he was not aware they were required; that the original books of E. Stone and Co. had never come to hand; that he had never had them, and did not know where they were, and that the furniture at 10, Vereker Road, belonged to his wife.

GUILTY . There were three other indictments against the prisoner for obtaining goods by false pretences, and for conspiracy, and three previous convictions were proved against him.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.


Before Mr. Recorder.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-679
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

679. HENRY WILLIAM FOX (18) , Unlawfully placing a piece of wood across a railway, thereby endangering the safety of certain persons.

MR. FULTON and MR. KERSHAW Prosecuted; MR. BLACKWELL Defended.

Mr. Stannard produced apian of the district.

ROBERT CLAYTON . I live at 13, Third Avenue, Plaistow—I am a signalman of the London and St. Katharine's Dock Company—I have charge of the Bridge Docks, and control the swing bridge, which is worked by hydraulics from a lever in my box—the windows of the box are about 27 feet from the ground, and enable me to see the loopline which is used for ballast traffic—I cannot see the rails—I can see the top of the embankment, or a person standing on the rails, down to his knees—on 15th June, about 4 p.m., I was on duty at the signal box; my attention was attracted to four men playing about in the dock close by—the prisoner was one—he and another man were picking a piece of wood up, called a stage, being two long poles fastened together—it is used in painting a vessel in dry dock for the men to go from the quay to the dock by laying a plank on it—this is the stage (produced)—when not in use they lie about in the dock and are washed about by the water—I saw the prisoner and the others, two were carrying the wood along; they picked it up from behind my box—they were about ten yards off—I saw Fox's face—he was walking backwards—he had hold with one hand—he was facing me—the other two were playing—two took the wood towards the Y shed, and towards the fence of the loop line, and two followed—when they got to the top of the bank I called out "Do you want any help—Fox said "Go and f—yourself"—I said "If you want any help you can very soon have some, as you will be getting yourselves into trouble if you do not mind"—I was then looking out at the back of the box that looks into the Victoria Dock—the stage was token down the bank; Fox held one end—I then went to the north end of the box that faces Connaught Road and blew my whistle for assistance, or with the intention of frightening them—I then went to my window at the back of the box, and I saw three of the men at the top of the bank running away—about five seconds afterwards Fox ran away too in the same direction—my suspicions being aroused I went out of the box and looked through the fence on the top of the subway, and I saw the piece of wood lying across the line—I ran round to the gate to get into the Victoria Docks—I ran up the Victoria Docks past Nos. 3 and 4 granaries when I came up to Fox—I said "What do you mean by putting the timber on the line?—he said "It was not me, it was one of the others"—I told him it was him, and I should charge him with placing an obstruction on the line to endanger lives and property of the company—some person had put an obstruction on the goods line in January, and the bill produced had been put up by the Dock Company offering a reward of 5l. for the apprehension of the offender—Fox walked up the quay about twelve yards—I followed alongside, but could not see any assistance—the other three men were behind him—Fox ran round No. 2 granary; I ran after him—as we got back to No. 2 granary, west, he ran into the arms of a dock constable; I told the constable to hold him—I am not aware that these men had any

business on the premises—we took the prisoner to the station—I stated the charge to Inspector Hamilton—the trains go from the Royal Victoria Dock side down the curve and underneath the Connaught Road, as shown on the plan—they are called ballast trains—the crushing shed is marked on the left of the plan.

Cross-examined. I do not know of any bird's nests near the subway—there is an undergrowth of trees on the other side—the stage is not used as a ladder; I do not know what it is used for—I have not heard the prisoner say they were going to use the wood as a ladder—I could not see what the prisoner was doing when I blew my whistle—I did not see him put the wood on the line—the others were lads of about the same age as the prisoner—I could see west and north from my box.

HENRY KIMPTON (Policeman L 139). On 15th June I stopped the prisoner when he was running towards me from Clayton—I said to Clayton "What is a miss?"—Clayton said "I shall charge the prisoner with placing an obstruction upon the line"—I took the prisoner to the Dock Police Office—he was there charged.

GEORGE WILLIAM HAMILTON . I am a police inspector, employed by the St. Katharine's Dock Company—on the afternoon of 15th June the prisoner was brought to me by Clayton—he was handed over to the Metropolitan Police after hearing Clayton's statement—Clayton said "I found him putting an obstruction on the line"—the prisoner said "I did not do it, but I know who did"—he was charged by the Metropolitan police-constable with placing this piece of timber on the line and thereby endangering life and the property of the Company—he replied, but I did not heed it—I went to tine loop line and examined the place—I saw this staging at the buttress of the bridge—one part was across the metal and the end of that was under the other rail about six inches from the chair that supports the rail—it was in a slanting position—an engine-driver might see it about 80 feet off—the radius of the curve is 6 chains, and the incline is 1 in 50—that would be a sharp curve and a steep incline—a train coming from the Albert Docks side would have to pass through the tunnel—I question whether the driver would see the wood at all—it has not been weighed; it is about 1/2 cwt., and 10 feet 10 inches one side and 8 feet 6 inches the other—it was heavier then, because it had been in the water and had become saturated, as much as two could carry—the height of the bridge where the obstruction was was about 15 feet from the rail to the girders—it is not an arched bridge.

Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrates that I knew there were bird's nests in the arch, and that lads used the staging as a ladder to get at them—I did not hear the prisoner say they were taking it to get at bird's nests.

Re-examined. The prisoner said "I did not do it, but I know who did"—one end of the wood was under the rail, but could not go beyond—it formed an obstruction which could not move any further.

WILLIAM RICHARDSON (Policeman K 280). On 15th June, about 5.30, I was called into the St. Katharine's Docks—Hamilton said he would charge Fox with placing a piece of wood on the line in the docks, thereby endangering life and property—the prisoner said "I was there with the other two; they said there was some nests, so we took the wood from under the bank"—I took him to the station—on the way he said

"Iwould have pulled it off again, but that chap blowed a whistle, and the others ran away, so I ran away too"—he was charged at the station—he said "It is false; I never put the timber on the line at all."

JOHN SHERLOCK . I am an engine-driver, in the service of the London and St. Katharine's Dock Company; I have been with them four years—I drive the ballast engine between the docks and the loop line—my train consists of an engine and eight trucks—we get the ballast from the crushing machine, shown on the left of the plan—it is used by the ships—from 10 to 15 trains a day pass over the loop line—my attention has been drawn to where this wood was—I should be able to see the obstruction from my engine about 80 yards off coming down the incline, but we often go with the trucks in front of us, so that there would be about 30 yards between the trucks and the obstruction—I should not be able to pull up before coming against it, because we should not see it soon enough—the curve is sharp—if the trucks had been thrown off the line they would have been dashed into the bridge—three people are employed on the train, myself, stoker, and guard—the guard is shunter—coming from the dock we should see it about the same distance—we should not be able to pull up before coming against it so well, because it is a steeper incline than the other side—we travel from 10 to 15 miles an hour—we could not bring the train quickly to a stop at an angle of 1 in 50 at a place like that—the trains run at irregular times—our train went down the line about 4.40.

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY . — Six Months' Hard Labour

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-680
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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680. CHARLES NOAKES (19) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a waistcoat of Benjamin Hammond; also to a previous conviction at Stratford in June last.— Six Months' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-681
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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681. ROBERT WHITE ** (46) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Henry Shaw with intent to steal therein.— Nine Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-682
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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682. EDWARD PATRICK COFFEY (50) to embezzling three sums of 9 1/2 d. each, of the Radical Alliance Club, his masters, and to a previous conviction at Dover in 1878.— Two Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-683
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

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683. SARAH ELIZABETH RUFFLES (29) , Unlawfully endeavouring to conceal the birth of her child.

MR. SANDERS Prosecuted.

WLLLIAM BODGER (Police Inspector). About half-past 7 on the evening of 3rd June the prisoner came to Leytonstone Station and made to me this statement, which I took down in writing, and which she signed:—"I, Sarah Elizabeth Ruffles, gave birth to a male child on the 8th or 10th of May last, while staying at Mrs. Haynes', of 7, Forest View, Leytonstone. I did not hear it cry, and thought it was born dead. I took it away in box, by rail, to Bethnal Green, and put it over a wall—the name, of the street I don't know—and went into Bethnal Green Workhouse. I stayed there till the 22nd, and since then I have been staying at Croxford Road, Bow, and I give my myself up because I feel very unhappy. "Isearched and found a child had been born and the constable is here who found the child.

WILLIAM BARTLETT (Policeman A R). About 8 o'clock on the evening

of 16th May I was on duty in Groombridge Road, Hackney—passing the corner house, 10, Church Crescent, I saw a box lying in the garden—I examined the box and found it contained the dead body of a male child—it was a cardboard box, such as is used for packing gentlemen's ties in, with simply a cover—the child was not clothed, but wrapped in an apron—the wall round the garden was about 4 feet 6 inches high—the box was between the wall and the house, close to the wall—it could not be seen by any one passing by, unless they looked over the wall—I looked over the wall and saw it.

The prisoner said "I am very sorry I did it."

GUILTY. — Judgment respited.


Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-684
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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684. JEREMIAH DUGGAN (19) was indicted for and charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the manslaughter of John Shorting.

MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.

WILLIAM SHORTING . I live at Jarrow—I had a brother named John, aged 42, employed on the steamship James Joicy—on Saturday, 2nd June, I saw his dead body in the mortuary at Greenwich.

JANE LAWES . My husband keeps the Hatcliff Arms, Greenwich—on Monday, 28th May, the deceased came there with two other seafaring men—two young women afterwards came in; two of the men left, and the deceased and the two women drank together—I did not see them leave—the deceased might have had a little drop, but he was not drunk.

JANE WAKLE . My husband is manager of the Ship and Billet, East Greenwich—on 28th May, about half-past 11 o'clock, I saw the prisoner there, in the middle compartment; two young women and the deceased were in the same compartment—he was the worse for drink; he asked for more liquor, I refused to serve him—he then turned to go out; as he was going out the prisoner struck him and knocked him down; he got up by a barrel, and the prisoner struck him again, in the face, and he fell again; the younger of the two women emptied the contents of a pot of ale over the deceased—I said to the prisoner "Don't molest my customers"—he said "You don't know what he said to these girls"—I told him he ought to be ashamed of himself, the man was old enough to be his father—I told my barman, Taylor, to see the old man outside—Taylor said to him "Come along, old man," and took him out—the prisoner and the two women remained a few minutes, and then went out together—about 10 minutes after he returned, and was then arrested—he was not drunk, I have no doubt he had been drinking.

HENRY TAYLOR . I saw the deceased and two girls in the house; he asked for more beer, I refused to serve him, because he was very drunk—I afterwards took him outside and left him with Martin—about five minutes afterwards I returned and saw him lying on the ground on his face, Martin was there then—I saw the prisoner and the two women going away in the direction of the British Queen public-house—the deceased was insensible—a doctor was fetched and he was taken to the Greenwich Infirmary.

JOHN HENRY MARTIN . I am a boiler-maker, of 7, Belmont Place, East Greenwich—on 28th May, about a quarter past 11, I was in the street facing the Ship and Billet; I heard a disturbance there—I afterwards saw the barman lead the deceased out, and leave him against the side of the house—I crossed the road to him; he asked me to direct him to the derrick—as soon as I had done so the prisoner came out of the bar with two young women—he said something to the deceased, which I could not hear, and dealt him a blow with his fist on the left ear, and the man fell on is knees, then on to his side, and then on to his face; it appeared a hard blow—I said "Why don't you go away, and let the old man alone—he made no reply; he went away with the two women, and I and the barman lifted the deceased on to the pavement; he did not speak; he appeared to be insensible—a constable came up, and a doctor, and he was taken to the infirmary—I afterwards pointed out the prisoner to the constable in the Ship and Billet—the deceased appeared to be half drunk.

WILLIAM NORRIS . I am a labourer—I was outside the Ship and Billet on this night, and saw the deceased, the prisoner, and two girls—the prisoner said to the deceased "You have got me into a fine mess; the manager refused to serve me; if you are not out of this you will get more than you like," and then he struck the deceased with his left hand on the right side of the head; it was not hard enough to knock him down; he went down on his knees very slowly, then slowly on to his right shoulder and then on to his hands and face.

Cross-examined. When I first saw the deceased he was trying to stand steady, but he could not—if he had been sober the blow would not have knocked him down; it was between a blow and a push; I should call it rather a quick shove.

JOHN ROBINSON (Policeman R 408). I found the deceased lying on his back insensible; he was dead when we got him to the infirmary—Martin pointed out the prisoner—I told him I should take him into custody for striking the man and causing his death—he said "What! me; I know nothing at all about it"—he had been drinking, but was not drunk.

WALTER CHARLES S. BURNIE . I am medical officer of the Greenwich Infirmary—the deceased was brought there at 40 minutes past 11—I afterwards made a post-mortem examination—there were no bruises or marks of violence on the body; there were no external bruises on the surface of the brain—there was extravasation into the ventricles, and effusion of blood halfway over the brain and at the base—that caused death; the violence described had accelerated it—the stomach was full of food, and smelt strongly of alcohol—the effusion could be caused by excessive drinking, without any blow, and death might happen at any moment, from five minutes to two hours afterwards.

Cross-examined. If the blow had been severe I should have expected to find a bruise.

The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate said that the deceased was drunk, and pushed against him, and that he just struck him with his open hand, without any intention of doing him any harm.


Before Mr. Recorder.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-685
VerdictsGuilty > unknown
SentencesImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour

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685. HENRY SHILLINGWORTH (25) and CHARLES O'DELL (24) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Edward Kroeker, and stealing a pair of silver tongs, four tea spoons, and other articles. Second Count, Charging them, together with SOPHIA O'DELL (25) and ELIZABETH O'DONNELL (17), with receiving the same goods.


EDWARD KROEKER . I live at Cedar Lodge, Honor Oak—on the evening of 1st June I went to bed at half-past 11, having left the catch on the library window, which is on the first floor and faces the garden, fastened—I had that night left a ladder against the house—next morning, about 5 o'clock, I heard a noise that sounded as if in the house—I got up, and went into my dressing-room, and looked out into the garden, where I saw two men walking down the path with their backs towards me; I could not see their faces at any time—I called out "What are you doing there—they crouched down, turned sharply round, and ran back towards the house, so that I could not see them; that might lead them into the yard, and so back into the road—I went to a window at the side of the house; I saw them getting over the wall between my garden and the next one—the two prisoners are the same size as those two men; I only saw their backs; I did not recognise them at the police-court—I searched my house; I found the library door locked on the inside—I got in by my own ladder through the library window, and discovered there had been taken from the house some silver sugar tongs, four silver tea spoons, dessert spoon, silver knife, fork, and spoon in a case, this silver salt spoon, with my initials on, two overcoats; this (produced) is one of them—my wife is too ill at this moment to come here; the doctor says she must not leave the house; I have received a doctor's certificate to that effect.

JOHN WINZER . I was present at the police-court on each occasion—I heard Kate Kroeker, the prosecutor's wife, sworn and examined, and was present afterwards when she signed this deposition, which purports to be signed by the Magistrate in whose presence the deposition was taken.

The deposition of Kate Kroeker was here read as follows:—"KATE KROEKER. I live at Cedar Lodge, Honor Oak Road, Forest Hill, and am the wife of Edward Kroeker, corn merchant—at 6 a.m. on Saturday, 2nd instant, I was the first person to come downstairs—I found the plate drawer taken out of the sideboard in the dining-room; the drawer was in the next room by the window—I then found the library locked on the inside—I told my husband, who came down—just at 6 o'clock, before I came down, I saw one man getting over a fence between the two gardens next ours—I only saw his back—to the best of my belief that man was O'Dell—we found the library window open; that is some height above the ground—some of the plate was left, and all of the silver was gone—I identify the spoon and coat produced—my initials are on the spoon. Recalled. The man I saw is the same size as O'Dell; I can't say if he was O'Dell or not—I missed two over coats from the lavatory, and a pair of silver sugar tongs, four small silver tea spoons, one dessert spoon, a case with silver knife, fork, and spoon, and a silver salt spoon—the value of all the things would be about 5l."

LOUISA EVANS . I am servant to Mrs. Deacon, of Stanstead Road, Forest Hill—on the morning of 26th May I came downstairs and found the pantry door locked on the inside—after searching about in the house I missed four night-dresses and three petticoats, some money, a silver ink

stand, and other articles—these are two of the petticoats and the night gowns.

KATE FISHER . I am housemaid to Mrs. Deacon—on the morning of 26th May I came downstairs, and from what I saw I searched and missed among other things this silk handkerchief (produced), which had been lent to me—the night before I had left the house safe when I went to bed, next morning I found things disturbed when I came down.

HENRY HOWARD MORLAND . I live at 162, Ivydale Road, Nunhead, near Forest Hill—on 11th May I locked up my house as usual, and went to bed about 10.30 p.m., leaving it securely fastened—I was down next morning something after 6 o'clock—I found cupboards open in the kitchen and scullery, and the scullery-window open, and the door pulled to, but not closed—I missed five pairs of boots, two money boxes containing silver and other money, a marble clock, gold sleeve links, a canary, these two coats, and two towels—I have no doubt about them; they are marked.

FREDERICK CARTER . I am assistant to George Macklin, pawnbroker, of 116, Commercial Road—on 12th May these two coats were pawned with me by O'Donnell, in the name of O'Dell, for 13s.—on Saturday, 2nd June, about 8 p.m., O'Donnell pawned this other coat, in the name of Standish, for half-a-crown; I am sure of her.

BENJAMIN BENNETT (Detective Sergeant P). On 23rd June I served on Shillingworth, at Holloway, a copy of this notice, in conformity with the 19th Section of the Prevention of Crimes Act.

GEORGE JONES (Sessions Warder, Wandsworth Prison). On 28th June, 1886, Shillingworth was convicted at this Court of burglary, and sentenced to 18 months' hard labour—this is the certificate relating to that conviction—the prisoner is the man mentioned in it. (The certificate stated that on 28th June Henry Shillingworth was convicted of burglary after a previous conviction of felony.)

JOHN WINZER (Detective Sergeant P, Re-examined). I received information with regard to the burglaries at Forest Hill, on Saturday morning, 2nd June—on Sunday, the 3rd, I went to 14, Garsdale Road, Peckham, with Robinson and Bennett—Fenham Road runs at the bottom of Garsdale Road—I found all four prisoners living there—Robinson in my presence said to Shillingworth and the two O'Dells, who were in the back room downstairs, "You will all be charged with being concerned together in burglaries at Forest Hill and Sydenham"—they made no answer—I then went upstairs to O'Donnell's bedroom, and knocked at the door—she opened it—I said "I am a police-officer; you are wanted downstairs about some boots"—she said "I know nothing about any boots"—she dressed, and came downstairs—Shillingworth was taken into custody then, and the others afterwards—they were all taken to the station—I searched the room in which we first found Shillingworth and the O'Dells—on a sideboard I found this white petticoat—in a box in the O'Dells' bedroom upstairs, the front room, I found two bed-gowns and a white flannel petticoat, all of which Mrs. Deacon's servants have identified as their property—on the floor in the front room downstairs, the O'Dells' parlour, in the front of a chest of drawers, the top one of which had been pulled open, I found this silver salt spoon, which Mr. Kroeker has identified—I showed it to Sophia O'Dell, and, addressing Bennett, I said "This is one stolen from Sydenham"—she said "I picked this up at

Camberwell"—I showed this petticoat to her at the station, and said "This petticoat has been identified as having been stolen from 291, Stanstead Road, Forest Hill, Mrs. Deacon's"—she said "I bought that of a woman"—her husband was present, and heard those three state ments; they were waiting to go into the police-court—a towel was found also in a box in O'Dell's bedroom; that has been identified by Mr. Morland.

Cross-examined. by Shillingworth. I found nothing in the room you occupied, the back bedroom on the first floor at the rear of O'Dell's room.

CHARLES ROBINSON (Detective Sergeant P). On 3rd June I went with the other officers to 14, Garsdale Road, where I saw Shillingworth with Mrs. O'Dell in the kitchen—Charles O'Dell opened the door to us—I told Shillingworth he could consider himself in custody on suspicion of breaking into some houses at Forest Hill and Sydenham—he said "You swine, you won't let me live"—I took hold of his arm and told him he would have to go to the station—Mrs. O'Dell said "You shall not take him"—she shoved me in the breast and prevented me from taking him out of the passage—Sergeant Winzer seized his other arm and he was taken to the Peckham station—later in the day he was taken to Sydenham and charged—to my knowledge he had been living about three weeks at Garsdale Road—the O'Dells had been living there to my knowledge very nearly six months.

The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate, Shillingworth says: "I have nothing to say." Charles O'Dell said: "I know nothing about it." Sophia O'Dell said: "All that was found at my house, two night-gowns and two petticoats, were mine, and I can take the detective to the chap from whom I bought them." Elisabeth O'Donnell says: "I never pawned those coats or the boots."

Shillingworth, in his defence, urged that nothing had been found in his room, and that it was unfair to give his previous conviction in evidence. The other prisoners denied all knowledge of the things.


PLEADED GUILTY**† to a conviction of felony at this Court in June, 1886.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.

CHARLES O'DELL— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

SOPHIA O'DELL and O'DONNELL— Nine Months' Hard Labour each.

The Jury and the Court commended the conduct of the police.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-686
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

686. ALFRED WEBBER, Unlawfully and maliciously wounding Charles Robert Fitt.

MR. TAYLOR Prosecuted; MR. LOOKWOOD, Q.C. and MR. GILL Defended.

CHARLES ROBERT FITT . I am a jeweller, of 5, Langton Terrace, Blackheath—I was a tenant of the prisoner, under a lease of March 26th—after I entered into possession I had an unpleasantness with him—he had no business to grant me an agreement, because the property belonged to a building society, and the dispute continued at intervals up to the very last—on 15th May I received this paper from him, and wrote this letter in reply—on 16th May I had an interview with him in the presence of Mr. Young, an inspector of the gas works—about 1 o'clock I heard Webber and the gas inspector down in the basement, and I went down—the inspector said "I cannot remove the meter, because it belongs to Mr. Fitt"—Webber then said "If you cannot remove the meter I will

have the coal-house," and he called for a chisel and dashed the lock off the coal-house door, and threw the lock into the basement, and I said to Mr. Young "This is the treatment that I am subjected to," and he said he would thrash me if I went down to my own coal cellar—I replied, and he said "I will do it now for two pins"—Mr. Young went upstairs and came into my shop parlour and spoke to me—I have omitted to say that before Mr. Young the prisoner called me a swindler and a bester, and I instructed my solicitor to write him a letter on the 18th, and the same afternoon the prisoner disconnected the water in my house, and I have had no water since—the 19th was my son's cricket day, and he left about 1 o'clock—I had occasion to go to the w.o. about 1.45—it is in the rear of the passage and on the side of the shop parlour—there is a door next to it which leads into the back yard by steps, and near the door of the w.o. there is an entrance into the basement—I had to face the basement entrance as I left the w.o., and was doing my braces up and going into the shop, when I saw the prisoner coming up the stairs, two or three stairs at a time—I did not want to come into contact with him, as I had placed the matter in my solicitor's hands—directly he got on to the same footing as myself he came from behind and seized me like a madman, and violently shook me, and said "You b——, I will do for you now," and I was thrown to the floor—my head struck against the baluster, which I knew afterwards, and there he held me by my throat till I knew no more, but I tried to kick him to get relief—when I came to, two doctors were present—I was then in my shop parlour—I saw Sergeant Howell about 5 o'clock, and made a statement to him, and next morning they brought the prisoner to my bedside, and I made a statement—I was taken in a cab to the station to charge him, and the doctors ordered me to be taken home at once—I had never had epileptic fits before that, but I have had since, and the doctors say I had one after I came to—my health has been very bad ever since, and the doctors did not want me to come to-day.

Cross-examined. by MR. LOCKWOOD, Q.C. I have suffered from violent pains in my head since, and had to consult a medical man—I had some thing like that two years ago, and consulted Dr. Botterell—Mr. Young was before the Magistrate, but was not called—I was very much annoyed by the disagreement with Mr. Webber, but my condition of mind was quite right—I was very angry with him ever since I took the house—of course I thought a good deal about it, as he bothered me a good deal—(Pointing to a plan) it is about 8 feet from the door of the closet to he door of the parlour—when the man, who I say is the defendant, came up the stairs I was buttoning my clothes—I had my hands behind me when he came behind me and seized me—I believe I was just finishing—I tried to turn round to see who it was—I partly turned and saw him again—I said at the police court "I could not turn round," but I saw him when he got me down—when he first seized me he shook me so violently that I could not turn, and he dashed me down, and I got hold of the balusters, and turned and saw him then—I do not know in the confusion whether I struck my head against the balusters when I fell, but I did strike my head—I have a clear recollection of how I fell—I have said before the Magistrate "I don't know if my head struck against the balusters"—I felt a blow, and I presume I fell on my head—I was conscious enough after the fall to know that his hand grasped my throat

—he grasped me as a vice—my head struck the balusters; I have learned that since—the time was about a quarter to 2 I know—I don't remember making a statement to Phillips—he came to my bedside, and I was very bad indeed, and the doctor actually came up to see if I was in a fit state to see him—I might have left out something owing to the condition I was in—when I came to my senses I had been put in a chair-bed in the back parlour, and I saw Webber in the passage, and told him to get away; I did not want him to come near me—I called out "Take that man away," and I think one of the doctors said "He had better get away," or one of the police—when he assaulted me he had a coat on—he had a little bit of a sore throat at the time, and his coat was put round his throat—I do not know whether a man named Hopkins had been painting the kitchen that day; I did not go into the kitchen; that is not mine—I did not know Hopkins before the assault—some painting was going on in the passage some time before, but not at that time—there is a door from the shop into the street.

Re-examined. I saw the prisoner coming up the stairs from the basement—the two houses communicate below—there is a communication from his kitchen area to mine, and another in the rear of the basement, and he has to go down some stairs, and there are two more entrances, one from the ground floor, and my shop parlour is connected with his shop parlour, and his dressing-room with my dressing-room—there are four modes of access—I have only had two doctors in 25 years, and I have my relations here to prove it—I do not know where Hopkins is—I did not occupy the kitchen, only the shop, parlour, and passage.

JOHN OSBORNE (Policeman L 273). I am mounted patrol—on 19th May, about 2.15, I was on Shooter's Hill, and the prisoner came to me and said "There is a man lying down at the back of my premises, a tenant of mine, with his face downwards; I do not know what is the matter with him; I did not want to take any responsibility on my own shoulders, so I thought best to call the police in"—I went with him to 5, Langton Terrace, and found Mr. Fitt lying in the far end of the passage, near the back parlour, face downwards and insensible—a man named Hopkins and I assisted Mr. Fitt on to a bed-chair in the back parlour—I undid his collar quickly, and about 2.30 Dr. Cooper came—I waited there till about 4 o'clock, and as I was mounting my horse outside the prisoner asked me if Mr. Fitt had mentioned his name—he did not go in with me, but came out of his shop next door—I heard nothing about any ill-feeling between them—I picked up a button.

PETER COOPER . I am divisional surgeon, of Stanton Lodge, Black heath—on 19th May, about 2.30, I was called to Langton Terrace, and saw the prosecutor lying on a chair bedstead in the parlour in a semi unconscious state—his eyes were bloodshot, not very much; he came round in a few minutes and was able to speak to me—from what he said I examined his neck and found some small contused marks, two on the right side over the windpipe, and two more on the other side of his neck corresponding—I should say that they were caused by finger nails; there must have been considerable pressure to produce them; the skin over the windpipe was abrased and bleeding—they could not be caused by a person quickly undoing his collar, they were more serious than that—he also had a scalp wound over the right frontal, not deep, but the continuity of the skin was severed, and it had been bleeding—there

were other superficial wounds over his right eye—Dr. Botterell came afterwards—I saw blood and hair on the balusters.

Cross-examined. That was an indication to my mind that he had fallen with his head against the balusters; there is a projecting point—he appeared to be recovering from an epileptic fit when I went, and after he recovered consciousness he showed great excitement—he was telling me what had happened, and I believe he saw the defendant outside, and he went into another epileptic fit—epilepsy affects the brain at once, it is sometimes momentary, but it varies—all epilepsy does not terminate in insanity, but it is the result of some disorganisation of the brain—persons who have epileptic fits axe sometimes deprived afterwards of recollection of what happened immediately before the fit came on, but not always—the person commonly falls and would try to catch hold of something if he could; there is muscular activity in the earlier portions of the fit, a man will clutch at anything—he had not lost much blood, not enough to account for his enfeebled condition, that was the result of epilepsy—the marks on the throat were super ficial, and would not have caused such a state of things as I found—I attribute the state I found him in to epilepsy, how caused I do not know.

By the JURY. I do not know of a case of a sudden blow causing epilepsy but being knocked down forcibly would be quite sufficient to bring it on—if the man was knocked down forcibly against the baluster rails that would account for the condition in which he was found.

Re-examined. The injuries to his head were not greater than, in my opinion, would be caused by an ordinary fall, because if he fell down in a fit against the balusters there was a very sharp point, which had cut his head—it was an inch and a half long and it had been bleeding, that is where the blood came from which was on the floor, but it was not much—if a man 42 years old has a fit and has never had one before, there must be some cause—an assault would be a sufficient cause; sun stroke will bring on epilepsy, and so will fright or a shock.

JAMES BOTTERELL . I am a surgeon, of the Friars, Old Charlton—on 19th May, between 3 and 4 p.m., I was called to see Mr. Fitt, and found a cut on the top of his head, an abrasion over the right eye, an abrasion on his right and left cheek, and bleeding abrasions on his neck—higher up on his neck were two scratches on each side—I have been attending him since; he is still weak and low.

Cross-examined. I can hardly say that he is suffering from the results of epilepsy—my partner has been attending him as well—he has not had epileptic fits while under my care, nor lave I heard of them from my partner, but he has had three head attacks congestion of the membranes of the brain, that is the result of May 19th—supposing he had two epileptic fits on 19th May the congested brain might be accounted for by that—his brain gets confused, and he has throbbing pains in the head and suffers very acutely, and his eyes are bloodshot, they become suffused immediately, that is the result of congestion of the membranes of the brain, but what causes it I do not know—bloodshot eyes are an attendant of epileptic fits—epilepsy is congestion of the brain and results in unconsciousness—these attack stop short of that; anything which produces disorder of the brain is accompanied by sickness, and epilepsy is sometimes accompanied by sickness—I never knew individually of a

person who became epileptic through a blow—in a person disposed to epilepsy a fit might be brought on by a sudden attack causing excitement and fear, and it might be brought on, I think, by excitement, worry, and annoyance—Dr. Cooper says that the second attack was brought on merely by Mr. Fitt seeing Webber, and that which occurred on that occasion might occur on many others—if a man is standing when an epileptic fit comes on, he falls: and sometimes for a moment or two before, the brain is becoming disorganised, and does not recollect events immediately preceding; the person struggles as long as he can against it, clutching at anything; I have known of persons clutching at themselves and inflicting injuries on themselves, and if I was teaching a class I should say "Take hold of an epileptic patient and prevent his injuring himself"—I found no bruises on his throat and none appeared afterwards—if he were clutched by a strong man so firmly as to strangle him and deprive him of consciousness, I should expect to find bruises—I said before the Magistrate "The abrasions on the throat were not serious, they might have been done in the course of opening the collar of a man in a fit—if violence was used, as stated by the prosecutor, I should expect to find more serious marks," but I do not consider serious marks a necessity in the case—all the other marks would be likely to be found if the man fell in a fit and struggled on the floor—the marks on his neck healed on the third day, but traces remained.

Re-examined. The marks on his neck were more serious than might be caused by quickly opening his collar—I have never known a case where an epileptic fit has been preceded by such an extraordinary delusion as it is suggested the prosecutor suffered from in this case—the attempted strangulation, accompanied by shock, might bring on an epileptic fit if there was a predisposition to it; or violence would produce it—he is a man of fairly good constitution, but not strong; it is impossible to state the amount of worry necessary to produce epilepsy.

RICHARD HOWELL (Police Sergeant R). On 19th May, about 5 p.m., I went to 5, Langton Terrace, and Mr. Fitt made a statement to me—I went to Dr. Cooper and afterwards to No. 6, and saw the prisoner—I said "I am a police officer, Mr. Fitt next door has been violently assaulted, he says you are the person who has assaulted him, and he will charge you," he said "I know nothing about it, but what do you intend to do I said "You will have to go with me to Westcombe Park police station, where you will be detained till further enquiries are made," he said "All right"—I said "Before we go to the station I want you to come with me to see. Mr. Fitt," he said "But I object to that till I have had advice, and I should like another doctor called to see him, "Isaid "That is not necessary, there have been two doctors to see him," he said "But I object to see a man who does not know what he is saying, "Isaid "I shall not take you before him unless he is conscious"—I took him to the station, and next morning, about 10.30, I saw him and the prosecutor, and Inspector Phillips took down the prosecutor's statement made in the prisoner's hearing.

Cross-examined. I wished to confront him with Mr. Fitt, that Mr. Fitt might make a statement which I could use in evidence—that is done in extreme cases; I did not hear Inspector Phillips tell him he was to say nothing—I had not then heard that Mr. Fitt had called out when he

saw him, and had gone into another fit, it was after that—I was not aware that he had seen him and had been taken ill—I did not take the prisoner to Mr. Fitt, because Mr. Fitt was in convulsions—this was on a Saturday—I went back with Mr. Phillips on the Sunday, and the prisoner was brought into Mr. Fitt's presence—he went straight to the bedside and the statement was made in the doctors' presence—I did not hear him told to say nothing—I took him to the station and he was detained till about 9.30 on Monday morning.

Re-examined. Mr. Fitt was removed to his house about 6 o'clock on Saturday evening, the 19th—I saw the passage, but saw no marks on the stairs.

ALEXANDER GILMORE YOUNG . I was at the police-court, but not called—on 16th May, between 1 and 3 in the day, I was present at an interview between the prosecutor and prisoner in the basement—Mr. Webber said "The inspector from the Gas Company is here; where do you intend putting the meter?"—Mr. Fitt said "You have had my answer; I won't have it moved"—Mr. Webber seemed to lose his temper, and called him a swindler and a bastard—Mr. Fitt said "You have threatened to thrash me"—Mr. Webber said "And I will," or "would for twopence."

Cross-examined. That conversation took place on May 16th, and this is the first time I have told it in the witness-box, but I gave my statement to the solicitor on the first police-court day—they both seemed angry; Fitt seemed excited, and Webber was out of temper.

HENRY PHILLIPS (Police Inspector R). On 20th May, about 10.30 a.m., I was present at the prosecutor's private house at Old Charlton village—Fitt made this statement in the prisoner's presence, which I took down. (This narrated the assault as before.)

Cross-examined. I advised Webber to say nothing—the object of the interview was, aye or nay, was he the man—if Fitt had said that Webber was not the men he would have been discharged—all I had to do was to get him identified.

JOHN HOPKINS . I am a painter, of 4, Charlton Cottages—on 19th May I was engaged at 5, Langton Terrace, Blackheath, in the basement—I left for dinner about 1.15 by the back door; the basement door was locked—I returned about 2.15, and found Mr. Fitt lying in the passage—I moved him with the patrol, and then saw some blood—the patrol undid his collar and his coat and waistcoat—Webber did not come in till I went to him, and asked him to come and look at Mr. Fitt—when he came there he said "Let him lie; don't touch him, because he is a traitorous man, and he might get you into some trouble or me"—Mr. Fitt, who we had laid on a chair bedstead, waved his hand and said "Go away"—there are two doors in the basement, one of which I always kept locked, but the one on a level with the yard was open—there was a right of way there, but that had been fastened up when Mr. Fitt came—I was called at the police court as a witness for the defence—I assisted in making a door on the first floor of Mr. Webber's house two or three months ago—his bedroom is on that floor, but we stopped it up again as soon as we made the door from Mr. Webber's parlour—there is no door now on the first floor—Mr. Webber sleeps over Mr. Fitt's shop—I knocked away one door and put in another upstairs—you could not get through that door into Mr. Fitt's premises; that was stopped up—we took the door away and made a new

door—we used to go through by the front area before Mr. Fitt came there.

Cross-examined. Mr. Webber could have got into the premises by the basement door only—I had locked it from the cellar side—there were no means of communication upstairs between the two houses—when I found Mr. Fitt lying in the passage I went to Mr. Webber; that was about 2.30; I found him in his shop—Saturday is a busy day; he was serving in his shirtsleeves—I had seen him at 12 o'clock attending to his business—I did not find that Mr. Fitt had vomited till after we had shifted him, and it was after that that Mr. Webber came to look at him and he put his hand up to his neck and said "Go away"—I believe Fitt had two fits—he vomited two or three times, and the vomit smelt very much of drink when I wiped it up—I did not fetch the police; I believe Webber did, and he went for a doctor—when I went into Webber's shop it was full of customers.

Re-examined. The front area door is along the cellar—the key is kept on Mr. Webber's side, and through that door you get access to Mr. Fitt's premises—I saw Mr. Payne there; he gave the man some brandy that was after he vomited.

By MR. LOCKWOOD. After we got Mr. Fitt inside, I communicated to Webber that Mr. Fitt had mentioned his name—he did not put his hand to his throat and say "Webber, go away," till after the doctor came—I had not told Webber before he spoke to the patrol what Fitt had said—he was there at the time—that was about the same time that Osborne was there—he mentioned Webber's name; that was while he was conscious.

CHARLES ROBERT FITT (Re-examined). I had drunk one glass of bitter that morning at the Oak public-house between 12 and 1—the landlord, Mr. House, is here, and the barman also—I don't suppose I was there three minutes.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I have nothing to say except I am not guilty of the charge, and know nothing of it what ever. I have no doubt it was done from spite."

Witnesses for the Defence.

CHARLES CHILDS . I serve in Mr. Webber's shop, and live there; it is a grocer's and a post-office—on Saturday, 19th May, I was in the shop from 12 to 12.30—a van was there unloading beer into the cellar below the pavement—Mr. Webber spoke to me about 12.30, and from then till about 1.10 I was serving behind the counter—Mr. Webber then took my place—Saturday is the busiest day in the week; he had his coat off—I went down below to pack away the beer that had been delivered, and stayed there till about 10 minutes to 2—there is an area where the cellars are, and a door into the next house, which was not used at that time—during the whole time I was in the area packing the beer Mr. Webber did not come down at all—the kitchen is on the same level as the area—that is where Mrs. Webber and the assistants dine—during the whole time I was in the cellar I heard Mr. Webber's voice—while I was upstairs I saw his little girl given a paper to take upstairs, and I saw Mr. Webber come down into the shop and go to Miss Newton's desk and write a cheque—that was after I came up from the cellar into the shop; he was still in his shirtsleeves—he remained in the shop till Hopkins came and called him; that was about 2.20—there are two

doors leading from both kitchens, and each looks into one area, and the door of the next house was locked—it has always been locked; I have tried it several times.

Cross-examined. My attention was called to the way I had occupied my time about 20 minutes after the affair happened—I knew it before 5 o'clock—the two young ladies were engaged, tied to the post-office—by packing beer away I mean packing bottles from baskets on to the shelves—I could hear Mr. Webber's voice in the kitchen, every word he said—I heard his voice from the time I went down to dinner—I said at the police-court "I heard Mr. Webber's voice in the kitchen as I passed; I heard footsteps I thought to be his going upstairs"—that was when I was in the shop after I came up from the cellar—he was in the shop when I went up—what I say is that I heard his voice from 1.30 to 1.50—I did not look at the clock, but it was about 1.50, because it was the time the postman came.

Re-examined. It was not usual for the beer van to come on a Saturday—I think it was about 1.30 when Mr. Webber came down; what went on I don't know—I did not notice Miss Kempster.

By the COURT. I do not know what occurred between 1.10, when the prisoner took my place, till he went into the kitchen.

JAMES BERNARD STEVENSON . I was an assistant to Mr. Webber, but am not now—I remember his going out to the van on 19th May shortly after 10 o'clock—he came back about a quarter to 12, and came into the shop to attend—I usually dined at 12 o'clock, and he dined at 1—they intimated to me that dinner was ready, by knocking something against the gas-bracket—I saw Mr. Webber in the shop from the time he came back to the time I went to dinner; he had his coat off—they went down to dinner that day about 1.20, a little later than usual, being busy—when he went down I remained in the shop—I next saw him at five or ten minutes to 2, when he came into the shop with his coat off, and wrote a cheque for the carman—the beer van was waiting—as he went into the shop he sent his little girl for the cheque-book; I did not understand her, and gave her an invoice—that was after he came up from dinner—I heard him call out to somebody, but did not hear what he said; he was outside the shop on the landing—his sitting-room is on the first floor over the shop—I saw him write a cheque and give it to the man at about five minutes past 2—I went home to my dinner, and left Mr. Webber in the shop.

Cross-examined. I saw him leave the shop and go down to dinner at 1.20—he had to pass the shop door to go to his sitting-room—his little girl came from upstairs to give me the message—he is in the habit of going upstairs after dinner for five minutes' rest—I returned at 3.15, and found a number of people outside; I had been absent for an hour—I do not remember when my attention was first called to this, or whether it was several days afterwards—I was fully occupied all that afternoon.

Re-examined. Mr. Webber was taken away in custody that afternoon, and I gave evidence before the Magistrate.

By the JURY. I cannot fix the time to a minute, or the number of customers—if I left at five minutes past, I should return at five minutes past.

BLANCHE ISABEL NEWTON . I am book-keeper and cashier to Mr. Webber—on 19th May he went out with a van, and came back and came

into the shop about 12.20—I was in my desk, and up and down the counter from 12 o'clock till dinner time—between 12.30 and the time dinner was ready Mr. Webber was getting goods ready for delivery; that was the Saturday before Bank Holiday, and an exceptionally busy day, and we dined a little later than usual—about 12.40 or 12.45 one of the little girls came and said that dinner was ready—I went down to dinner about 25 minutes past for half an hour, or a little longer—Mr. Webber and I went down together—he had been in the shop with his coat off from 12.30 till we went down to dinner—we always dine in the kitchen, me and Miss Kempster, and Mr. and Mrs. Webber—Mrs. Webber sat at one end of the table, and Mr. Webber at the other—the window is on a level with the area, where the beer is put—we were at dinner about half an hour—I did not go up till 2 o'clock, but Mr.Webber went up a few minutes before me, and said he thought he would have five minutes' rest—Miss Kempster left the kitchen at the same time as Webber—I saw him going up the staircase—the cheque-book is kept in the drawer in my desk—I had the key—as I was going upstairs I heard Webber call for the keys, and I met him coming down from their room on the first floor—I live in the house—there is no communication between the first floor and the next house—I gave him the keys, and he took the cheque-book out and gave one to the man, and then stayed in the shop and served customers all the time till Hopkins came.

Cross-examined. Mr. Webber looked at the clock, and said "I shall hardly get five minutes' rest"—I was engaged during the day on the customers' accounts, but I could see all over the shop—the door down to the kitchen opened and shut as persons passed up and down—it being opened would attract my attention, especially when it was draughty—Mr. Webber was packing goods inside the shop ready for the van—we dine in the kitchen, and you can go from there to the back kitchen; the two kitchens do not communicate; there is a separate door to each—the back kitchen door is never locked—the front kitchen door leads into the passage, which leads into the area where the cellars are—I believe there is a door from the passage by which you can enter Mr. Fitt's premises—on leaving Mr. Webber's cellar door you get into the area, and from there you can get into Mr. Fitt's premises.

Re-examined., At five minutes to 2 Mr. Webber got up and left the dinner-table; he had not moved from the time he sat down.

MAY KEMPSTER . I am post office clerk to Mr. Webber—Miss Newton went down with him to dinner on 19th May, at 1.20; he had his coat off, he had had it off more than half-an-hour at work—I followed them down two minutes after the half hour, and when I got down he was seated at dinner with his coat off—about five minutes to 2 o'clock he said he was going up to have a nap—I went upstairs behind him—he went up to his sitting-room, the window of which looks into the street—there was a beer van there—a little girl then came into the shop and gave a message to one of the shopmen, after which Mr. Webber called downstairs for the key, and Miss Newton came up—it was then a few minutes after 2 o'clock, meanwhile he had communicated with Stevenson—I gave my keys to Mr. Webber and went upstairs—the postman calls at two or three minutes to 2 and leaves at 2, and I have to see him—he was there about five minutes to 2, and that is why I went up with

Mr. Webber—I heard the postman come, and found him there when I went up.

Cross-examined. When I got up I saw the boy Childs there—Mr. Webber spoke to me as we went upstairs—I left him, and while I was washing my hands I was called down to attend to the office—in the evening I first asked myself what I was doing at a certain time—I had to attend to many customers in the interval, as it was a very busy day.

The prisoner received a good character.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-687
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

687. GEORGE PINNAGER, Unlawfully assaulting William James, and occasioning him bodily harm.

MR. PURCELL Prosecuted.

WILLIAM JAMES . I am a sawyer, of 9, North Pole Lane, Greenwich—on Sunday, 17th June, about 11.80 p.m., as I was going to bed, I heard a rap at the window on the ground floor front; the door was kicked open, and I went outside—when I got to the front door I saw a man named Frederick Roberts crossing the way—I work for the same firm—I also saw Pinnager—I went across the road and the prisoner and some others knocked me down with their fists—when I was on the ground they kicked me, the prisoner being one—I could not get up because he was on top of me—his hands were on my shoulders—he bit a piece off the top of my ear—he was leaning against the window sill when he dropped on the top of me—he laid hold of me with his mouth quite close—my wife pulled him off and gave him a push, and I saw him go away—I was taken to the hospital—I went with the policeman to the prisoner's house when he was arrested—on the way to the station he tried to kick me.

Cross-examined. by the Prisoner. You and your brother-in-law, Roberts, came to my door—this is not a made-up affair.

ELIZA JAMES . I am the prosecutor's wife—I was at home on Sunday evening and heard a rap at the window—my husband went out and I followed—I saw my husband across the road lying under the window of Mrs. Wright on the opposite side—Pinnager and Roberts were kicking him—I holloaed out "Murder!" and "Police!"—there were only these men there—they ran away, and Pinnager was the last man on the top of my husband—I caught hold of him by his shoulders and pulled him off—his head was very close to my husband's, and I' pulled his head up, and my husband said "He has bit my ear"—I gave him a push, and helped my husband up; the prisoner went away—I am sure he is the man—they had quarrelled on the Saturday, but I was not present then.

EDWARD WRIGHT . I am a labourer, of Greenwich—I saw Roberts hammering at the prosecutor's door—James came out, and Roberts and others got hold of him and dragged him across the road; I did not then see the prisoner—they fell in my next neighbour's door, and then Pinnager came down the street, and kicked the prosecutor while he was on the ground—I called them cowards, and put on my clothes and went downstairs—before I got out James said "My ear is bit"—when I got out James was bleeding—the others had run away—I am sure Pinnager had hold of James—I had first been looking from my upper window, which was open—the prisoner was leaning over James; he had got his hand on my window sill, and was kicking him; I did not see his

head close to James—I did not see the biting; that must have been done when I was putting my clothes on and coming down.

Cross-examined. I am sure you kicked James; I saw you when I was at the door—I was a minute or so putting my things on.

By the COURT. I saw blood streaming from James's ear and a piece had gone off it—I took him to the hospital; the piece was not picked up.

MARY ANN WRIGHT . I am the wife of Edward Wright, of 146. North Pole Lane, opposite Mr. James's house—I was in bed when I heard the knocking at James's window—I looked out, and saw Pinnager and Roberts knocking at the window—they burst the door open, and dragged James out across the road to my side of the street, and into my next door neighbour's house, and then they came under my window, and I saw Roberts and Pinnager kicking James; then I heard James say "They have bitten my ear"—the prisoner was holding to my window ledge, leaning over James—I went down to the door, and saw James standing by the lamp-post, and the prisoner was gone—James was bleeding; he had lost part of his ear—I knew Pinnager by sight; I am sure he was one of the men who kicked the prosecutor and who dragged him across the road—there is a lamp opposite my house, not quite outside James's house, but more aslant; it is on James's side of the road—I was in my night-dress when I first saw it, and I called my husband when I heard the knocking, and jumped out of bed.

Cross-examined. I am sure it was you who went to James's door with Roberts; I may be mistaken, but I do not think so.

Re-examined. I am not mistaken in thinking the prisoner was one of the persons I saw kicking James and holding to my window sill.

JOHN JULIAN (Policeman R 402). About 11.30 on 17th June I was called to North Pole Lane, and I saw James coming towards the hospital bleeding—I went with him to the prisoner's house; I had to knock him up; he was going to bed—James was with me, and charged him with biting his ear—I asked James if this was the man that bit his ear; he said "Yes, that is the man"—the prisoner said "I did not go there till after the row was started, and it is not me that did it"—James said "Yes, it was, and I wish to charge him"—on the way to the station he struggled and attempted to kick James—I saw no blood on James's clothes.

EDWARD ORMEROD . I am a surgeon at the Miller Memorial Hospital, Greenwich—I saw James on the 17th June—almost the upper part of his right ear was bitten off, and his right eye was black—the wound was jagged and had marks on it, which I should say would be occasioned by a bite, and there was a scratch on his head, bruises on his back, and a scratch on his cheek—I do not think the injury to the ear could have been caused by a blow—he lost a good deal of blood; the ear is a very vascular part.

By the JURY. I have not examined the prisoner's teeth.

WILLIAM JAMES (Re-examined). I was a fellow-workman with the prisoner—we had quarrelled on the Saturday, and had a fight.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I did not bite him. He first started the row himself."

Witnesses for the Defence.

EMMA LYDIA CRONK . I am a tailoress—my husband is a bricklayer—I live at 1, North Pole Lane—on the Sunday night the prisoner was

looked up I was standing at my door at 10.50, when a row began—I saw Roberts and a tall fair man come to James' door—they knocked at the window first, and Roberts said "Come out, sawyer"—the prisoner was not there—Roberts said "I have four or five to fight you now"—then the men burst the door open, and Mr. James rushed out, and they all fought together till they got down to the window at No. 6—the men got James on the ground, and Pinnager was taken in doors by his wife and Mrs. Stanley—as he was coming out of his door, and while he was indoors in his own house, James cried out that his ear was bitten—then a policeman came, and I went to see to my baby—I know the prisoner was not at the row at all; he had been in at Mr. Roberts', and as I came out of my house I saw him go by with his wife, and they bid me "Good night" as they passed.

Cross-examined. by MR. PURCELL. I was not examined before the Magistrate, because I did not think they would accuse the prisoner—I knew that he was locked up that night—he was brought before the Magistrate on the Monday morning—I heard he was remanded for a week—I know Mrs. French and Mrs. Stanley—I live opposite—I knew they had gone to the Court—I did not go to the Court; I came here because I was afraid he would not get off, and he was not the right man—I am certain of it—I asked myself to come—I did not ask myself to go to the police-court, because I thought it was not necessary—Pinnager's brother asked me if I saw anything of it, and I told him what I saw—I was standing at my doorstep with my baby in my arms—my door is not the length of this Court from where the row was—the tall fair man was nothing like the prisoner, and could not be mistaken for him; there is not the smallest resemblance between them—the man was much younger, and with light hair, not at all like the prisoner—I have only known Pinnager since he has been living in the street—when the man knocked James' door open, James flew out—James was not dragged across the street—the street is not very wide—James fell down near the next door to Mrs. Wright, and the door was burst open—I was not near enough to see the men's faces; I could see Roberts' face—the prisoner's window is nearly opposite mine—after I had been in to my baby and came out, James was standing up against the lamp-post with his ear bleeding—I was at the door when he said his ear was bitten, and I went in after that—only his wife and son were near him then—he afterwards went to the hospital—I did not see who bit his ear.

JESSIE STANLEY . I live at 66, Rowland Street—my husband is in the Army—I do laundry work—I was paying a visit to my sister on this Sunday night—about 11.30 I saw my sister come in—I saw James in the road with a white shirt on challenging people out to fight—I saw him go to Nos. 3, 4, and 5, and burst their doors open, and he said "Come out, and I will fight you," and they all rushed from their doors and struck him, and they fought and fell on the ground—Mr. James made the fifth man, and I saw Pinnager come up; his wife struggled to get him indoors, and said "Oh, George, do come in," and I went to him, and said "Come along, Mr. Pinnager, don't you have any bother; come along indoors with me, and think of your wife and child," and I got him indoors and left him in charge of his wife, and came out again and saw Mr. James still struggling on the ground with the fair man—I recognised Roberts; the people and their lodgers said he had burst their doors open, and

James got up and cried, "Oh! my ear is bit"—I was then standing against the bother; that was after I got Pinnager in—I mean I was standing against the row, against the struggle, close against it—the bother was in the road, and I was standing against it—I was in the road while they were struggling on the ground together, about five or six yards from me, when James got up and said "Oh! my ear is bit," and his wife said "Who has done it and he said he did not know, there were so many men there—there has been a little spite between the prisoner and James.

Cross-examined. by MR. PURCELL. I told the Magistrate that James said he did not know who did it—I will swear I said so—I heard my deposition read over—I should not be surprised if it is not there—I know the man is innocent—I am certain I saw the prosecutor going round to the doors, and breaking them open, and calling the people out to fight—he had a white shirt on—I did not see him fly across the road, but he was in the road when I saw him—I did not see him dragged across the road; I saw him lying on the ground, near Mrs. Wright's window, and four or five men on the top of him, going to punch him—I was five or six yards off then—I knew the men by sight; I told the Magistrate their names—I did not know one man's name; I knew him only by sight—I told the Magistrate I saw the men kicking and punching Mr. James on the ground—Mrs. James could not see it, because she was screaming for the police—I did not see her pull somebody off the prosecutor—if she had done so I must have seen it—if she says she did so, it is not true—I coaxed Pinnager indoors, because we did not want the man to get into any bother—James' ear was not bitten then—after Pinnager was got indoors I went back to the row, and saw James on the ground struggling with these four men—I was so excited I do not know who I saw at the doors, but there were a good many people—I was excited because there was such a bother, and it was a great upset for everybody in the street—I am not related to the prisoner; I do not know him, except by his going backwards and forwards—I took tea with Mrs. French—I do not think they have long come to live in the street—I believe the men who were struggling were the worse for drink—the prisoner was not the worse for drink, but James seemed so—the prisoner was walking towards the row when I stopped him, and his wife was struggling to get him indoors.

ELLEN FRENCH . My husband is a Bolton shutter maker—we live at 9, North Pole Lane—I went to my street door and bade my sister good night, and I saw the row—I saw Mr. James fall under the lamp with four men outside his door—there was a struggle, and when he got up he said his ear was bit, and I went towards him and said "If your ear is bit you had better go to the hospital, or else to the police-station"—Mr. James's house is No. 7, and my house is No. 9—there are two No. 7'S, and one is next door to the other—my house is about six yards from James's, on the same side.

Cross-examined. I did not see a tall fair man knock at James's door and break it open—I did not see anyone break his door open—I saw Mr. James break open three or four other persons' doors—I saw him send Mr. Roberts's door in—Mrs. Stanley and I gave evidence at the Police court—Mrs. Cronk did not—I have not been talking the matter over with Mrs. Cronk—I did not know what she was going to say—I am

speaking of what happened about 11.20 or 11.30—I first saw Mr. James standing in Mr. Roberts's door, and stand in the road and challenge them all to come out and fight—I did not see him cross the road nor dragged across the road—I am quite positive I saw him lying underneath the lamppost—I did not see him lying under Mrs. Wright's door—I saw him with four men with white shirts on, what they call their Sunday shifts—I did not see Mrs. James pull somebody off her husband, but I saw somebody go up the street and shout for the police—Pinnager was not amongst the persons who were kicking Mr. James—I saw Pinnager's wife and Mrs. Stanley coaxing Pinnager indoors, and I then ordered my sister to go and fetch a policeman—I did not see Mr. James standing against the lamppost with his ear bitten—Mr. James's wife and son were there, but not near him—I saw Mrs. Cronk with the baby when James was on the ground and the men were kicking him—I saw her husband; he is not here to-day—when Mr. James said "My ear is bitten" he was not on the ground, he had got up and went along the street and busted Roberts's door in, and I went with him towards the hospital, and called them out to fight—half his ear was bitten—I should have gone with James to the hospital, but I had a baby in long clothes, in my arms—I was nursing the baby at the time.

WILLIAM JAMES (Re-examined). I was sober—it is not true that I broke open people's doors, nor that I went to Roberts's and other persons' doors, breaking them open, and challenging them out to fight.

Cross-examined. by the prisoner. I did not go to your window and say "I will kill the b——"; I did not say I would kill you.

Re-examined. After my ear was bitten I did not challenge anybody—I did not go to Mr. Roberts's door—Mr. Wright took me to the hospital.—I did not see any women standing at the doors nursing babies.

EDWARD ORMEROD (Re-examined). I do not think the prosecutor was drunk or that he had been drinking—there was not sufficient loss of blood to prevent his knocking the doors open after his ear was bitten.

JOHN JULIAN (Policeman R 402, Re-examined). When I went to the prisoner's house he was partly dressed—he appeared to have been drinking—it was about 11.50 when I took him from his house—I was called at 11.30—I went to the bottom of the lane and watched till the prosecutor came back from the hospital—when I got to the North Pole Lane the place was quiet, and I waited there, when James's son came and made a communication to me, and I waited till James came from the hospital, and then he preferred the charge against the prisoner—I waited from five to eleven minutes outside James's door.

Prisoner's Defence. I should have liked to have called Mr. Roberts, to say who went to the doors, but he is doing a month's imprisonment. On the Saturday James and I had a few words, but after that we were good friends, and I know nothing about the Sunday night: The prosecutor is often fighting with people, and the public-houses and beerhouses in the neighbourhood refuse to serve him, for when he gets a drop of beer he starts as he started on me on the Saturday. I do not know anything about the fight that went on on the Sunday night.

GUILTY . — Ten Months' Hard Labour.

Before Mr. Recorder.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-688
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

688. WALTER JAMES FISHER (28) , Burglary in the dwelling house of Elizabeth Urry, and stealing 20 watches and other articles. (See page 238.)

MR. BROMBY Prosecuted.

HENRY CULLINGS . I am assistant to Elizabeth Urry, pawnbroker, of Blackheath Hill—her shop was broken into on March 25th about 1 a.m.—I had closed it the night before—there is an iron shutter with a bar across and a bolt through—the doors and windows were secure—I after wards found the jewellery window broken; the bar was forced out of the iron and taken down; they must then have smashed the window with the bar; it is plate glass—the iron shutter does not go all over the window, only about half-way, and watches could be seen at the top, but not the jewellery—I heard a smash, got up, and went down to the door at 1.15, and found a constable there—I missed a lot of chains, 20 or 30 watches, most of them silver Geneva ones, and some jewellery; 15 watches have been found—all these articles (produced) were in the shop that night—I also know the articles in this handkerchief; two of them are gold watches.

Cross-examined. by the Prisoner. I did not identify anything when I was first called before the Magistrate.

JESSE HEWITT (Policeman R 171). On 25th March I was on duty in South Street, Greenwich, near Mrs. Urry's shop, and soon after 1 a.m. I heard a smashing of glass, and found the shutter down, the window broken, and a lot of labels on the pavement—I went to a little dark turning opposite, and saw a short man running about 200 yards off; I only saw his back—he ran into Drysdale Road, and I lost him where there is a bank and a fence at the end of the road—I saw footmarks going over the bank leading into Mr. Graves's stoneyard.

Cross-examined. I pursued the man from what a woman told me.

MARY ANN TULLETT . My husband is now undergoing imprisonment—on 25th March, between 3.30 and 4 p.m., the prisoner and another man, who I do not know, came to our house—the prisoner said "Does Tullett live here—I said "Yes," and I told my husband he was wanted, and they talked together—my husband came in again, and the men left—I next saw the prisoner at Blackheath Police-station.

Cross-examined. I am certain you are one of the men—I did not hear the conversation—I was asked to go and see if I recognised any one, and I recognised you—my husband did not sit down and read the paper when he came indoors, and stay at home till Monday morning—I only passed up and down once when I went to see you—I did not recognise you, because you had your head down—I then went into the Court to hear the cases; I was there about 10 minutes, and as I came out to go home I saw you in the private passage, and recognised you.

Re-examined. I was upstairs when my husband came back—when I passed the prisoner in the passage I said "That is the man who came to my house."

ROBERT TULLETT . I am undergoing seven years' penal servitude—on Sunday afternoon, March 25th, about 3.30, my wife called me—I went out at the time, and saw the prisoner and a man named Tranter—I had never seen either of them before—Tranter asked me if my name was Tullett—I said "Yes"—he said "Do you go out buying I said "No, I have got two cousins who do"—he said "Where do they live—I said "I do not know"—he said "I have got some things to sell; will you buy them—I said "No, they are not in my line of

business"—he said "Can you show me a dealer?"—I recommended him to Mr. Purdie, and they left—they came back about 4 o'clock, and said they could not find the shop; would I come to show them—I lived at this time at 35, Watergate Street, Deptford—I took them to Mr. Purdie's shop, which is just at the top of my street—I asked him on the road what he had got to sell—he said "Never mind," and would not show me—I knocked at Mr. Purdie's door and said "Here is a man who has got some things to sell"—he said "What is there?"—I called Fisher, and he showed Fisher and Tranter into the back room, and I went in with them—Fisher pulled a parcel out of his side coat pocket, opened it, and showed Mr. Purdie a gold watch, a silver watch, and two or three chains—Purdie asked him how much he wanted—he said "9l."—Purdie said "No, I cannot think of giving you that"—Fisher said "Will you give me 5l. 10s. for them?"—Purdie said "No, I will give you 4l. for them"—Fisher said "No, I won't let you have them," and rolled them up again, and put them in his side pocket, and we went outside—Fisher and Tranter went towards Greenwich, towards the Stowage, and came back again, and stood at the bottom of Wellington Street talking to a neighbour—I lost sight of them, but they came back about 5 o'clock; I was still stopping there; I had not gone home—a man named Pope and another man were with them—Fisher said "Will you show this man where the shop is that was Pope; I showed Pope Purdie's shop; he was carrying the watches—then Fisher stood a little way off the shop—Pope said to Mr. Purdie "Will you give any more for them than you offered to the man who came to the shop before?" putting eight or nine watches on the table—Purdie took them up, and took them to the window, and said "I will give you another 10s.; that is 4l. 10s."; he paid the 4l. 10s.—Pope gave it to me—I said "It don't matter; the things do not belong to us," and I went out, and gave the money to Fisher—he gave me 5s., and that is what I am doing seven years for—if I had committed a robbery I should not like to bring another man into trouble—two days afterwards Pope went to buy a jacket, and was arrested.

Cross-examined. I have not known you 10 years; I did not even know your name—I did not say at the police-court that I remained at home till Monday morning—I left you that night, having shown you Mr. Purdie's house—I did not go out again till Monday—I saw you produce the watches—I knew Pope by sight working on the water—I said to Mr. Francis "I know what you want me for; it is for that job at Greenwich," but I did not go on to say "I shall get five years for this"—I have two children and a wife at home starving.

Re-examined. I did not see John Jeffries when I went to Purdie's house, but he says he saw me.

GEORGE POPE . I am undergoing a sentence at Wandsworth Prison—on Sunday afternoon, 25th March, about 3.30, I was in bed in the back room, second storey, 11, Upper East Street, East Greenwich—a boy called me, and I went out to Union Walk, about three minutes' walk off, and stood there talking to George Barnes—I then went to the Stowage at Deptford, which is a road by the waterside, where there are no houses, and saw the prisoner, Tranter, Tullett, and a man I do not know—I know three of them by sight—the prisoner said "Will you go to Greenwich with this man?" pointing to the stranger—I said "What

for—he said "To fence some things," and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, but I did not see what was in it—I said "What is it—he said "Never mind what it is"—he gave it to me, and I felt some round things like watches—he said to me "Stop behind," and then he said something to the stranger, which I did not hear—"fence" means selling—I went with the stranger to Greenwich Park, which was 10 minutes' walk, and then gave him the parcel—I stopped in the park and he went away, and returned in 10 minutes and said "He won't have anything to do with them—Fisher had said "Return again if he won't have anything to do with them," so we went back to the Stowage and saw the prisoner and Tranter and Tullett, and the stranger said to the prisoner "The man won't have anything to do with them"—the prisoner said to me and Tullett "Well, old Purdie offered 4l. for them; see if he will give any more for them"—Tullett went to Purdie, and the prisoner stopped outside with Tranter—I went in and put the parcel on Purdie's table—he gave me 4l. 10s., and I gave it to Tullett in Wellington Street—he gave it to the prisoner, who gave me 2s. and Tullett 5s., and said "You will be all right when we get the others; they are all right under a tombstone"—he asked me to row them across the river, and I did so, and they got out, and Tullett and I went back to Deptford.

Cross-examined. I was in bed at 3.30, and I went out at a quarter to 4—I did not see the parcel opened—I did not say to the police "Stand away from the door; I will murder you"—the man struck a blow at me, and got hold of me by my throat—the constable struck me, and said "If you don't leave off talking I will punch your b——head," and struck me, and that is why I struck him.

By the COURT. The prisoner said to the stranger "I told Dan to pull the shutter down; we had no tools and no treacle, and Dan thrust his hand through and the glass dropped."

JOHN PURDIE . I am a general dealer, of Wellington Street, Deptford—on Sunday, 25th March, about 3.2 p.m., a young man who I do not know came to my shop; nothing particular happened, and he left, and about 20 or 25 minutes afterwards two men came to know whether I would buy some watches—I cannot say whether the prisoner was one—they showed me a handkerchief with some watches in it, and I said "They are very unsaleable; it is hardly worth while buying them"—I gave 4l. 10s. for them—these are they (Selecting them).

By the JURY. I offered 4l. for them on the first occasion.

FREDERICK BURCHNELL . I live at 3, Morden Grove, Lewisham, and am in the employ of Mr. Graves, a cemetery mason, whose premises adjoin Drysdale Road, and there is a bank there—on Monday morning, March 26th, about 7.30, I went into the yard from something I heard, and saw two men walking on the pavement from Lewisham towards Greenwich, close to Mr. Graves's yard—I could not tell whether they had been in the yard—the prisoner is one of them; I was about a yard from him.

Cross-examined. You must have come out of the gateway or some place adjoining it, as I could see 40 yards up the pavement—three large gas lamps opposite reflected on your face.

Re-examined. You cannot get from Mr. Graves's yard into the Avenue—there is a fence and a wall, and this property was found just at the bottom of the fence—I saw the constable find some watches and lockets

at 9 o'clock the same evening—he was picking them up near the fence which is next to the Avenue.

PATRICK TANGAY (Policeman R R 86). On the evening of 26th March I searched Mr. Graves's stoneyard, and between the wooden fence and some tombstones I found 15 silver watches, two gold watches, a gold albert and locket, four silver necklets and lockets, and four silver alberts and lockets in a handkerchief, covered over with earth—I handed them to the inspector; he is not here—the prosecutor identified them.

THOMAS FRANCIS (Police Sergeant R). I arrested the prisoner on 5th June at 9.30 p.m.—I met him; there was a crowd of people in, the street—he stopped and said "Halloa, master"—I said "Well"—he said "What is all the row about?"—I said "What do you mean?"—he said "They tell me there has been an old woman knocked down in Nelson's Buildings, by the Plume of Feathers, and they have been after me ever since; I have been down to the North"—I said "I don't know anything about that; I am going to arrest you for committing a burglary at 35, Blackheath Hill"—I had been looking for him ever since 25th March—I had seen him the night before the burglary—when I told him the charge, he said "When was it—I said "The morning of 25th March"—he said "I can prove where I was; I was at Boston on the 24th"—I knew him by sight before, so that I am not mistaken in saying I saw him on the 24th.

Cross-examined. My impression is you did not see me till I got close to you.

Witness for the defence.

JAMES FISHER . I am the prisoner's father; he does not live with me—on Sunday, March 25th, from 2 to 4 p.m., he was with me in the Greenwich Union Infirmary—I was a patient there and he came to see me—I was in bed—one of the attendants showed him in and out—I was on the ground floor.

Cross-examined. I am sure it was between 2 and 4—I know the infirmary porter by sight—I cannot say whether that is the man (Clark)—the prisoner was with me the whole of that time, two hours.

Witness in reply.

HENRY CLARK . I am porter at the Greenwich Infirmary, and see the visitors and friends who come to see patients there, and to write their names down, and also the name of the patient—the last witness was a patient in the J ward on March 25th; I have referred to my book and find that the prisoner did not come to visit him while he was there unless he came in a false name, and then the patient's name would be there—this is my book, there is not the name of any visitor here.

Cross-examined. If there are several persons there we make them wait—I have a civilian to help me on Sundays, but if you had been there your name would have appeared, and I am there with him—I should not let you pass in without giving your name.

Re-examined. If there are a number we make them stand back, and as each one comes in we ask him his name, if there are seven or eight we only let them pass through one at a time—I should very soon have tailed the prisoner back if he attempted to pass through. (The witness was directed to search through his book for the prisoner's name.)

Prisoner's Defence. On Sunday, 25th March, I came from Poplar to my lodging, having to see my sister, and from there I went to the

Infirmary to see my father. I stayed at his bedside from 2 to 4, and then went home and had tea. On Friday, the 30th, I was at Cambridge, 51 miles off, and on the following Monday, Easter Monday, I was at Peterborough, 95 miles off. I had to go to the police-station, where my description was taken, and on the following Thursday I arrived at Horn castle, and did the same, and on the Saturday night I went to Grimsby and went to a friend's house named Rogers; he could not do anything for me and I went to Boston and had a ticket there. I left there on the 24th and went to London and was taken.

HENRY CLARK (Re-examined). I have searched my book back as far as February 26th, that is the last visit the prisoner paid—he was not there on March 25th.

GUILTY . He was further charged with having been previously convicted.

WILLIAM CHARLES HALE . I am a warder—I produce a certificate (Read: This certified the conviction of James Fisher at this Court of burglary and larceny on January 31st, 1887). The prisoner is the man; he was in my custody—he got out on January 30th this year.

GUILTY. **†— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

The Court and Jury censured the conduct of Purdie.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-689
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

689. GEORGE GARLAND (50) and JAMES COLES (24) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Francis Shepherd, and stealing three coats, two dresses, and other articles, his property. Second Count, Re ceiving the same.

MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted.

EMMA SHEPHERD . I am a wardrobe dealer, and live with my husband at 3, Church Passage, Greenwich—on 23rd May I left the warehouse perfectly safe at 10.45 p.m., and went to bed—there are no shutters to the window—the police awoke me about 2.30 a.m., and I went down to the shop and found the clothes gone off two rails, and part of the window cut out—I missed three men's coats, waistcoats, shoes, drawers, jackets, and bodices, which were all right when I went to bed—there was a slight crack at the bottom of the window, but the glass was not out—these articles (produced) are mine.

ARTHUR BERRY (Policeman R 394). About 2.15 on this morning I was on duty in Roan Street, Greenwich, and saw the prisoner Coles coming out of Church Passage, carrying a large bundle of clothing—I shouted to him to stop, and he commenced running; I ran after him, overtook him, and asked him where he got the things from—he said "I picked them up in the passage"—I said "Very well, come along the passage with me"—I took him along it till I got to No. 3, Mrs. Shepherd's, where the prisoner Garland was sitting on the doorstep with this lady's jacket (produced) across his knees—I blew my whistle for assistance, he jumped up, and I took hold of him and held him till No. 354 arrived, and we took the two prisoners to the station, and the bundle in which were these things—I returned to the house, and found that a piece of glass had been cut out of one of the panes; part of it had been broken before, but the top part had been cut by a diamond, sufficient for an arm to go through—the rail, which was two feet from the window, was partly bare, the articles could be reached from outside—I asked Garland what he was doing there, he said he knew nothing about

it; he appeared very much excited, I thought he had had a glass or two, he appeared to be asleep, but when I blew my whistle he jumped up.

By the COURT. The passage runs round the church, it is about six feet wide and seven yards long, a kind of half circle, and the shop is in it; the broken pane was two yards from where Garland was sitting—it is 170 yards from where I saw Coles to the shop.

CHRISTOPHER OLIVER (Policeman R 63). On 24th May, about 2.15 a.m., I heard a police whistle, went t Church Passage, and saw Berry—I took charge of Garland, and told him he would be charged with the other in breaking into the shop—he said "I know nothing about it, got drunk and lost my way, and laid down there to have a sleep"—I saw a bundle laying on the ground, and one article on the pavement.

Cross-examined. by Garland. Nothing was found on you.

Cross-examined. by Coles. A pipe and some tobacco was found on you—the things were laying down when I went up, you did not pick them up.

Garland's defence. I had been out every night that week, and I got a little drunk, and sat down in a quiet place and went to sleep, and was awoke by the policeman fetching this man long with a bundle of clothes.

Coles' defence. I found these cloths wrapped in a bundle. I picked them up and put them on my arm, and the constable stopped me; this man is a stranger to me.


COLES— GUILTY on the Second Count.— Six months' Hard labour.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-690
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

690. DAVID DENHAM (27) PLEADED GUILTY ** to burglarly in the dwelling-house of Charles Edwin Gurry, and stealing a coat and other articles, after a conviction of felony in January,1883.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour


Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-691
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

Related Material

691. WILLIAM ALFRED PIERREPOINT (31) was indicted for the wilful murder of Sidney Gilbert John Pierrepoint. He was also charged, on the Coroner's Inquistion, with the manslaughter of the same person.

MESSRS. POLAND and BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. WARD Defended.

SOPHIA MOON . I am the wife of John Moon, and live at 158, Neate Street, Camberwell—the prisoner and his wife occupied the first floor front room at that house—they had two children, one was Sidney Gilbert youngest—the prisoner used to go to work; I don't know whether he was wheelwright—his rent was 3s. 3d. a week; he got into arrear—on Saturday, 26th May, he owed me 19s. 6d., six weeks' rent—I ad applied to him for it before that, as it was accumlating—about a fortnight before my husband told him if he would pay him 10s. he would forgive him the rest—he did not pay it, and on the Saturday he had to leave—

I had given him notice a fortnight before—about 9 o'clock at night he came with a barrow to move his things—he commenced moving them—I said to him "Mr. Pierrepoint, have you anything for me—he said "No, I have not"—I said "Oh my"—he said to the man who was helping him "Take the b——things back"—I said "We don't want them, Mr. Pierrepoint"—he said "You can have the b——bed"—we said if he could not get the 10s. he could leave the bedstead, and when he brought me the 10s. he could have it, and take it away—he then said "You can have the b——lot; I won't touch a b—thing," and he went away—the furniture was still upstairs—he sent the barrow way—he came downstairs and used most dreadful expressions to me—he had got the child in his arms carrying; it was dressed in the ordinary way with its hat on—he went out with the child on his arm, and he threw the key of the street door in the passage at me—this was about 10 o'clock as near as I could guess—people collected round—my husband sent Mrs. Pierre point for the man to fetch the barrow back to remove the things; we did not want to keep them—after throwing the key into the passage the prisoner went away, carrying the child—the wife afterwards came back with the barrow, and was allowed to take away everything—my husband brought them downstairs—the bedstead was taken away on the following Thursday—the prisoner had had a drop to drink on this night—he seemed to walk very well—I have seen him have more drink than that—he walked up the stairs and down, and in the passage—I believe he was very fond of the child—he had been out of work a long time, but I must say when he had work he would not do it—I heard of the child's death the same night.

Cross-examined. He had been out of work a long time, and he and his family were in a starving condition—he was a man given to drink—he was a very quiet man when he had no drink; when he had, he used most violent language—I can't say that he had been spending money in drink during the eight months he was out of work; that was when he used to drink—he would come home at 1 o'clock in the morning the worse for liquor, and kick up a bother in the house—he owed rent from time to time; he did not always pay when he got employment—in three years he only owed us 19s.—when he came home on this Saturday night I asked him if he had any money for me—he told my husband he would get the 10s.—as far as I knew he was then out of employment—he suggested leaving his bed; I refused that, and suggested that he should leave the bedstead—he said he would rather leave the b——bed than the bedstead—he did not say his wife had never slept on the boards and she should not do so now—he said he would do it himself, and his wife and children would have to do the same.

SARAH STORE . I am the wife of James Store, of 140, Neate Street, on the same side of the way as 158—between 10 and 10.30 on Saturday night, 26th May, I was with Mrs. Howell, who is related to me—I saw the prisoner coming from No. 158 towards my house, carrying the child on his arm; there was a crowd outside No. 158—I said to the prisoner "What's the matter up there—he said the people had stopped his bedstead, and that they might keep them all; he would not have any—ho was in dreadful trouble about it, crying, and he took out his hand kerchief, and was dreadfully excited—his wife came along, and I said to him "Lot her go and get the bed; it will be better than lying on the

boards with those two little things"—I said "You stupid man," or silly, or something like that—the wife asked someone to hold her baby—I said "I will hold your baby"—I took the baby, and she went back in the direction of Mrs. Moon's—the prisoner cried again; he was still holding the child on his arm, just as you might take a child up—he said, referring to the child, "They said I starved you"—he kissed it; he seemed as if he was mad—he put his handkerchief into his pocket, lifted the child up, and said "Patty, you shall be the victim"—he like tossed it on his arm, jerked it up like, and then caught it, and then threw it and dashed it down—I believe I screamed, and Mrs. Howell also, and she said "You have murdered your child"—he made no answer; he took his hat off, and stood there as if he was bewildered, as if he did not know what he was doing—a crowd came up, and were going to knock him about; he got behind me, and I said "Don't knock the man about; let him alone he will have enough to suffer"—the child was gone then to the doctor's, and I took the little baby into my house, and saw no more—I told the police the same night what I had seen.

Cross-examined. After his wife went away he cried bitterly; he was in a dreadful state of excitement—the words he used were not "Patty, you are the victim"—I believe it was "You shall be the victim"—I have no doubt whatever on the subject—the child was on his arm at the time; he did not take it off his arm, only lifted it—I have seven children living—I believe a child of this age when suddenly raised will make a spring; the child did not spring—I don't think he was carrying it in a clumsy manner; he had it on his arm as a father would—the whole transaction was very quick—it was dark that night, but there was a beerhouse over the way, and another along there; it was not so dark that we could not see—it was not that the child slipped from his arm, and as it slipped he caught it; I could not say so truthfully—I had not known the prisoner personally; I knew him by sight, seeing him once or twice; it might amount to six or seven times, seeing him, not to know him—I noticed him as being fond of children—I heard him say afterwards at the station that the child fell off his arm—I was quite close to him at the time, not more than a yard—if I had known what he was going to do I should have pushed the other off my arm and stopped it, but the whole thing was so sudden.

Re-examined. The child did not fall; I am sure of that.

ELIZA HOWELL . I am the wife of Thomas Howell, a leather dresser, of 172, Neate Street—on Saturday night, 26th May, a little after 10 o'clock, I was with Mrs. Store—I saw the prisoner carrying a child—he came to Mrs. Store's door; he was very much excited, and crying bitterly—Mrs. Store asked him what was the matter—he said they wanted to stop the bedstead, and he did not want them to do that; he wanted them to stop his bed—she persuaded him to go back; his wife came up with the baby; Mrs. Store took charge of it, and the wife went away; the prisoner was still there with the other child—he kissed the child, and said "You shall be my victim"—he was holding it on his arm, and he dashed it to the ground, he lifted it up this way (with both hands), threw it on to the ground and on to the pavement—I picked it up, and took it to the doctor—I believe its head fell on the ground first; I screamed "Murder"—the prisoner did nothing after he had thrown the child down; he stood there—I gave the child to the policeman at Dr. Par

tridge's, to take to the hospital—I was close to the prisoner when this happened—probably the child may have fallen by accident, but I don't think so; as far as I could say I believe it was wilfully thrown—later on my daughter-in-law, Ellen Howell, pointed the prisoner out to the police—she was there too—I told the police what I had seen.

Cross-examined. When the prisoner first came up he was carrying the child on his left arm, and he was crying—after his wife left he took his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his face twice, as if he was very much broken in spirit—after that he lifted the child up to his mouth and kissed it; it was just before he kissed it that he said "You shall be my victim"—I did not hear him say "Patty, they say I starved you"—he said he was very much tantalised by people taunting him about running away from his wife—I am quite sure that he used the words "You shall be my victim"—I did not hear him say "You are the victim"—he was very much excited—I have had experience in nursing children; I am the mother of 10—I can't say if a child clumsily held up in that way might give a jerk and fall out of the arms—I cannot answer that that was the way the child fell—I don't know; he threw it down—it might have fallen as you say—I have described what I saw.

ELLEN HOWELL . I am the wife of William Howell, of 10, Neate Street—on this Saturday night I was with my mother-in-law and Mrs. Store—I saw the prisoner come up carrying a child in his arms; he was crying very much; very much upset—I saw his wife come up; she gave the baby to Mrs. Store, and went away again—the prisoner remained with the child—I did not hear what he was saying—my mother was talking to him—I saw him kiss the baby—he was holding it with both arms, and his hand holding its feet, supporting it against his own body—after he kissed it I saw him throw the child to the kerb—he had it by the legs, and the child was over his shoulder, and he threw it and dashed it to the kerb—I saw him take his hat off then—my mother looked at the child, and said "You have murdered the child"—he made no reply—he said "Patty, Patty, you shall be the victim," as he threw it, when he was throwing it—my mother picked it up, and took it on to Dr. Partridge's—I did not see what became of the prisoner; I went with my mother to the doctor.

Cross-examined. I was near enough to hear what the prisoner said—I did not hear him say "Patty, you are the victim;" it was "Patty, Patty, you shall be the victim"—I don't think I said before the Magistrate that the words were "You are the victim"—I have not been talking over what it was he said—the child did not give a jerk when he held it up—I saw him throw it.

By the COURT. When the child was falling I could not say where its feet were—I know he had it by the legs, like that (describing), with its head over his shoulder—the head would be on his shoulder if he was carrying it properly—he had it by the two legs; the legs would come to his chest.

KATE MCCORMACK . I live at 1, Castle Street, Neate Street—I am single, and am employed at White's Ginger Beer Factory—on Saturday night, 26th May, somewhere about 10 o'clock, I was going along Neate Street; there were not many people about—I saw a man with the child by its two legs, and throw it on the ground; he had it by its heels—I was three or four yards from him—I did not hear anything said—I did not see

what became of the child; I screamed, and ran away from fright—about half an hour after I saw him taken into custody.

Cross-examined. I cannot say that the man I saw in custody was the man that threw the child down—I saw him taken to the station—I did not give evidence at the police-court, or at the inquest—it was quite light in Neate Street, because there are large lamps outside the Skinner's Arms—there was nothing to attract my attention; I was coming by, and saw the man with the child's two legs, and dash it on the ground; it was all the work of a moment—I am quite sure that the child did not slip out of his arms—he held it by its two legs, close down to the ankles—I saw the child strike the ground, and as it struck the ground I ran away.

THOMAS ELLIOTT (Policeman P 530). About half-past 10 on the night of 26th May I was called to Dr. Partridge's surgery—I there saw Eliza Howell with the child—I saw marks on its head, and it was swollen; it was insensible—from what Dr. Partridge told me I took the child to Guy's Hospital; I remained there till about 10 minutes to 11, when the child died—it was attended by Mr. Drew—after the death I reported the matter to the police.

HENRY WILLIAM DREW . I am house-surgeon at Guy's Hospital—on Saturday night, 26th May, about 10 minutes to 11, Elliott brought the deceased child in; it was then in a dying condition; it died within 20 minutes—I was present at the post-mortem; there was a very severe fracture of the skull extending in an arched direction right across the back of the skull from ear to ear—the membranes of the brain were lacerated, and the brain itself as well, from the effects of the fracture; that was the cause of death—the head coming in contact with the pavement would produce the fracture—I don't think a✗n the arm would be sufficient to cause it; the violence would not have been enough; it must have been a very violent fall, that is having regard to the age, about a year and 10 months—I don't think a mere slip would be sufficient to cause such a severe fracture and injuries as well.

Cross-examined. A fall from a man's shoulder, 6 or 7 feet, would be a higher fall than from the arm; that perhaps might have caused it—a fall from the arm would not be more than about 3 feet—if the child had been held up by a man of moderate height, and fell on the edge of the kerb, that might have caused it.

GEORGE LUNN (Policeman P 598). About halt-past 10 on this Saturday night I went with Ellen Howell to the Little Wonder beer-house, Neate Street—she pointed to the prisoner among about 30 others there, and said "That is the man," and went away again—not being certain I called her back, and then she said he was not there; he had gone out at the back"; I went after him—I heard a shout "Policeman, he has got over the wall"—I went round to Albion Row, and there saw the prisoner running; he was stopped by some men, and I caught him—I said "I shall take you to the station for assaulting your child"—he said "All right, mister"—going along he said "We had notice on Tuesday to leave; I have been out of work, and have had a lot of trouble; we had our bed stopped by the landlord for the rent; I had no intention of doing such a thing"—he had the appearance of having been drinking, but he knew what he was about; he walked stoadily—where I arrested him was about 150 yards

from Neate Street—he had a bruised eye; I don't know how that occurred—at the station the inspector saw him, and took the. charge.

Cross-examined. He said some one in the crowd had struck him in the face; that was how he got the black eye—there was a great commotion in the street at the time.

JOHN WEBB (Police Inspector P). I was at the station about 11 o'clock on the Saturday night when the prisoner was brought in by Lunn; I asked the charge—Lunn said he brought him there for assaulting his child—the prisoner answered "No one saw it; I dropped him off my arm"—I told the constable to go and fetch his witnesses—the prisoner had evidently been drinking; he was the worse for drink—I sent for Mrs. Store and Eliza Howell; they came to the station—in the prisoner's presence I asked them what had happened, so that I might enter the charge—Mrs. Store gave me an account of the matter—I made this rough note at the time of what she said. (Reads: "About 10 p.m. I was standing at my door; I saw the accused coming along carrying a child. When near there they spoke to him, and he tossed the child up, and caught it by the heels, and dashed it to the ground. Eliza Howell picked up the child, and took it to Dr. Partridge, who said it was suffering from concussion of the brain.") When the prisoner heard that he said "I dropped him off my arm"—about an hour afterwards Elliott came from the hospital and reported that the child was dead—the prisoner heard that; he made no reply until I charged him with wilfully causing the death of his child by throwing it on the ground—he then made the same answer "I dropped him off my arm"—he told me the child's name was Sidney Gilbert John Pierrepoint, and the age one year and 10 months—he was searched in the ordinary way; only a few coppers were found on him—I know Mrs. Store's house in Neate Street; the pavement there is about 7 feet 6 inches wide; it is not an ordinary flag pavement; asphalte with a kerb; it was very light at the spot at the time.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I am not guilty."

GUILTY of Murder.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury.—


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-692
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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692. STYLES WILLIS (27) , for an abominable crime with Frederick West.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-693
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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693. ANTONIO PITAZZI (28) , Feloniously wounding Pasquale Cascarino, with intent to murder. Second County with intent to do grievous bodily harm.

MESSRS. POLAND and BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. TORR Defended.

PASQUALE CASCARINO (Interpreted). I live at No. 1, Neate Street, Camberwell—I keep an ice cream shop there—the prisoner is my brother in-law; he has been in the habit of taking out a small ice cream barrow—I lent him a barrow last year, this year he got another one; he has been in the habit of standing with his barrow in Avenue Road, Camber well—I was going to buy a small shop near there; the prisoner knew that, I told him so—he said "Take it if you like, but we shall not know the result; you take the shop, and under the bridge we shall see"—there is a bridge in Avenue Road—he was in the habit of coming to my shop in Neate Street every day—on Thursday, 31st May, he came there between half-past 5 and 6 in the afternoon—I told him I had been

to see the shop in the Avenue Road—he said "I don't want you to go there; I don't mind another one"—he took off his hat, threw it on the floor, stamped on it and kicked it, and said "We shall see who is the strongest underneath the bridge"—my wife said to him "Mind what you say, those are serious words"—he said "Well, we shall see about it underneath the bridge"—he then went away—about half-an-hour after I went upstairs with my wife; I was sitting on a box counting some money to pay my rent with—I heard the prisoner downstairs say "Is Pasquale upstairs—I had left two of my men downstairs, Angelo Cascarino was one of them—they said "Yes, Pasquale is upstairs," and the prisoner came up; he said "Now I have found you"—I said "What do you want in my room?"—he said "You won't let me go in my place there"—when I saw that he was very wild I got up from the box, he then took a dagger with three edges from his sleeve, and with the other hand he got hold of my throat, and forced me on to the bed and stabbed me in the lower part of the belly—he tried to stab me many times after that, but my wife seized him behind, and he could not do so—she screamed out, Angelo came up and tried to get the dagger away from him—I did not see the prisoner stab Angelo, but I saw him after he was stabbed—my wife called out for the police, and the police came, and I was taken to Guy's Hospital—I remained there 17 days.

Cross-examined. The prisoner is my wife's brother—until this year we have been friendly—I asked him to take this ice shop with me, but he did not like it, so I said I should take it by myself; he said if I did, when I passed his barrow by the bridge we should settle it—my wife and the interpreter were present when he threw down his hat and stamped on it, it was in my shop—he was out of temper when he did it—he said "Who is going to pay for this hat? as I serve this hat, I shall serve you"—I got my finger cut in trying to take the dagger from him.

GUISEPPA CASCARINO (interpreted). I am the prosecutor's wife—on 31st May I was present when the prisoner threw down his hat—later in the afternoon I was upstairs with my husband when the prisoner came up—he said "Now I have found you"—he then took the dagger from his sleeve, and stabbed my husband—I took hold of his arm and he tried to stab me in the belly, it only struck my clothes—I opened the window and shouted "Police l"—they came and my husband was taken to the hospital.

ANGELO CASCARINO . I heard the last witness scream out and went upstairs—I saw the prisoner with the dagger in his hand—I was out in the knee with it—I turned him out of the room—I was in the hospital 11 days.

Cross-examined. I am the prosecutor's cousin—I was present when the prisoner threw down his hat and said "Who is going to pay for this hat.

HENRY WILLIAM DREW . I was house-surgeon at Guy's when the prosecutor was brought there; he had a clean cut punctured wound on the left side of the stomach, about half-an-inch long; I did not probe it, it was in a very dangerous position—he was under my care for a day or two and was then transferred to another surgeon—he was let out after 17 days, quite cured.

WILLIAM SALTMARSH (Police Sergeant L 6). I took the prisoner into

custody on 2nd June—on the way to the station he said "Is my brother dead or better?"—I said "Better"—at the station he said in broken English "My brother-in-law have money, me have no money; I pay him 6s. for six months for standing in Avenue Road in the summer-time, and 6s. in the winter-time; he take my barrow away; he have a fight with me; he get four men and his missis, and they kick me in the stomach; he is a vagabond; me not have knife, my brother have knife"—he was charged with attempted murder of Angelo and Pasquale—he said "What about this dagger? it is only military men that have daggers; they must be mad"—these two knives were found upon him.

GUILTY of unlawful wounding. (The prosecutor said: "I will forgive all he has done tome.")— Six Months' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-694
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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MR. TORR Prosecuted.


Before Mr. Recorder.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-695
VerdictMiscellaneous > unfit to plead
SentenceImprisonment > insanity

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695. WILLIAM ROBERTSON (50) was indicted for forgery and fraud.

On the evidence of Mr. Philip Francis Gilbert, surgeon to Her Majesty's Prison, Holloway, the prisoner was found to be insane, and unable to plead, and was ordered to be. detained until Her Majesty's pleasure be known.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-696
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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696. KIRK GORRINGE (17) PLEADED GUILTY to an indecent assault upon Alice Mary Cole, a girl under 13 years ofage.— Six Months' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-697
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > penal servitude

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697. FRANK DARLESSON (17) to two indictments for forging and uttering a request and a receipt for 1l. 18s.; also to stealing a watch, chain, and other articles of Frederick Lethbridge .— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-698
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment; Imprisonment > other institution

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698. RUTH PATRICK (14) to unlawfully administering to Louisa Riddell certain spirits of salts with intent to injure and annoy her.— One Month's Imprisonment and Three Years in a Reformatory. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-699
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour

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699. GEORGE HOPE (20) and SARAH COLLINS (19) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Edward Layton, and stealing two pairs of boots and other goods. Second Count, for receiving.


JOHN COLLINS . I live at 36, Milfield Road, East Dulwich—the female prisoner is my sister—I know Hope by his living with her at 13, Pelham Road, Peckham—this pair of boots (produced) is mine—on 28th May he gave me this other pair, and I left mine behind—he said they would do for him to wear about the house—I saw no more of him.

JOHN EDWARD LAYTON . I live with my father, John Layton, at Walton Lodge, Honor Oak Road—I was at home on the night of 1st June—this pair of boots belongs to my father; they were missing on the morning of the 2nd.

LOUISA LAWRENCE . I am housemaid in Mr. Lay ton's service—on 1st June, about half-past 10, I secured the doors and windows; I was the last up downstairs; the scullery window was latched, and all was secure when I went to bed—I came down about 10 minutes to 7 next morning—I found that the scullery window had been unlatched, but closed down—the cupboard doors in the kitchen and pantry were wide open—I had left

this pair of Mr. Layton's boots by the scullery window the night before; they were gone, also two silver spoons, a silver brooch, a silk handkerchief, and a plum pudding, which I afterwards found in the summer house in the garden, with a piece cut off the top—I also found there this pair of boots, which have been identified by John Collins.

FREDERICK CARTER . I am assistant to George Macklin, a pawnbroker,136, Commercial Road, Peckham—on Saturday, 2nd June, about the middle of the day, the prisoner Collins pawned this pair of boots in the name of Edwards—she said they were her husband's, and he had bought them second-hand.

LOUISA EVANS . I am cook to Mrs. Laura Deacon, of 291, Stanstead Road, Forest Hill, which is no great distance from Honor Oak Road—on Friday night, 25th May, I locked up the house—next morning I found the pantry door locked on the inside; I had left it locked with the key in the door—some days afterwards I found the pantry key in the kitchen cupboard—from the kitchen I missed a night-dress, 6s. in money, and five postage stamps; the kitchen window was open, and the Venetian blind was tied up to a bar outside—I missed a silver inkstand from the drawing-room—the night-dress is one I made myself, and had my name on it; this (produced) is it, but the name has been cut out.

KATE FISHER . I am housemaid to Mrs. Deacon—on 26th May, when I came down in the morning, I went into the morning-room; I found the drawers and everything disarranged, also in the dining-room, from which I missed two silver salt spoons and a silver dessert knife, from the kitchen a night-gown of Evans's, and throe others, three petticoats, one of red wool, a pair of boots of my mistress's, and from the pantry a silk handkerchief, a silver skewer, and a silver spoon; this (produced) is the handkerchief, and this is the red petticoat, and these are the three night-dresses and the boots.

Collins. This handkerchief is mine; I bought it in the holiday week. Witness. I am sure it is mine.

JOHN FLOOD . I am a pawnbroker at 39, Pelham Road, Peckham—on 26th May this pair of lady's boots were pawned with me by the prisoner Collins in the name of Edwards for half-a-crown; she said they were her own.

BENJAMIN BENNETT (Detective Sergeant P). On Sunday, 3rd June, I went to 13, Pelham Road, Peckham, and there found Collins in a room where Hope was in bed—I told her I was an officer, and I believe she had pawned a pair of side-spring boots that had been stolen yesterday from a place at Sydenham that had been broken into—she said no, they were not side-spring boots, they were button boots—I said she had better tell the truth about them—I took her into custody and took her to the station, leaving Hope in bed—afterwards, on 21st June, I saw him in Rye Lane, Peckham—I told him 1 was a police-officer, and should take him into custody for being concerned with Shillingworth and others in breaking into a house at Sydenham; he said he knew nothing about it—I took him to Peckham Station, where he was detained—I there produced to him the pair of boots which have been identified by John Collins—I said "l am told these are your boots"—he said they were not; he knew nothing about them—I asked him to fit them on; he did so, and they fitted him tolerably—he then said "I will tell you the truth, governor; these are my boots," and he made a statement, which Sergeant Winzer

took down; it was read over to him in my presence, and I saw him sign it.

Cross-examined. by Hope. You had been drinking; I gave you a bottle of lemonade and some tea, not any spirits—you were much more sober when you made the statement than when I arrested you—I did not say I wanted to get Shillingworth a pair of knickerbockers, and I could got you some gold when you came out, that you should not get more than six, and that would do you good; nothing of the sort.

JOHN WINZER (Police Sergeant B). I went to 13, Pelham Road, on 4th June, the day after Collins was arrested—in the room occupied by Collins I found two bedgowns, one of which Evans identified and the other Mrs. Deacon; the first has the mark cut out, the other is marked Deacon—Collins, after being before the Magistrate on 4th June, was remanded—I afterwards searched the cell she had occupied while she was under remand I found this red flannel petticoat belonging to Mrs. Deacon's servant behind the heating apparatus—I saw Hope at the station on 21st June between 3 and 4; he made a statement in my hearing which I took down—I told him I should do so—I read it over to him and he signed it. (Bead: "I am only guilty of doing one job with Shillingworth, and that was at Honor Oak; that was where I left the boots what Sarah's brother Jack left behind at my house in Pelham Road. I did not get into the house, I asked Shillingworth to pass them out to me; the boots I could not see, they were underneath the table. He gave me the boots out and I put them on and walked home with them. He brought them out to the window and a plum pudding, and then came out and we went into the summer-house. I cut the top off and I eat a piece, he did not. We both left, and I went one way and ho another. It was on a Saturday morning. I did not see any more of Shillingworth till about 9 or 10 the same morning. Sarah and I had nothing in the house to eat, so I took the boots that were stolen over to Shillingworth, who was in O'Dell's house. I said to Shilling worth, 'These had better be pawned because they would do for some thing to eat.' Sarah came in about this time, and she took the boots away to pawn. She came back and put the money on the table. There was only Shillingworth and myself in the room at the time, the ticket was thrown on the fire, but I don't know who threw it. I said to Shillingworth 'We had better share it,' and I took, I think, about 1s. 3 1/2 d. I left, and have not seen Shillingworth since—I make this statement voluntarily to get O'Dell out of it, as he is innocent; he knows nothing at all about it.") He had evidently been drinking, but he knew perfectly well what he was about—he had in my presence a bottle of lemonade and some tea and a bloater—that was all he had in my presence—when Collins was brought to the station on 3rd June she was wearing this silk handkerchief (produced)—I took it from her neck; she said "This is mine."

Cross-examined. by Hope. We did not send out for pots of mild and bitter—we were not all drunk together at the station—I did not begin making the statement on paper before you said anything—you signed your statement immediately after making it—I did not say I would give you a bit of gold when you came out for having signed it.

Hope, in his defence, said he wax guilty of stealing the boots, and

that he asked Collins to pawn them, but that she was innocent, as she did not know anything about them.

GUILTY . —HOPE**— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

COLLINS— Nine Months' Hard Labour. (See the case of Shillingworth and others, page 357.)

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-700
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

700. GEORGE RUSSELL (a police-constable) was indicted for willful and corrupt perjury before Montagu Stephens Williams, Esq.


GEORGE ADOLPHUS BIRD . I am chief clerk at Wandsworth Police court—I was in Court in that capacity on Easter Monday, 2nd April—Mr. Montagu Williams was the Magistrate on the Bench—George Baker and Elizabeth Hannah Baker were placed in the dock—this (produced) is the charge-sheet upon which they were charged—I took notes of the evidence—the first witness called was Henry Lodes, 474 W—I took down in this book what he said—the next witness was the defendant George Russell, 200 W; I took down what he said—he was sworn in the usual way; he said "I was with the last witness, and what he has stated is correct"—Lodes had said "At 12 o'clock on Saturday night I saw the prisoner George Baker drunk and disorderly in Battersea Park Road, he used bad language and would not go, and I took him; on the way Elizabeth came up drunk, and used very bad language, struck me twice on the arm, and tried to rescue her husband"—then Russell, on cross-examination, said "I did not strike the female in the face, the male prisoner did not come across and ask me why I did it; I did not take hold of him by the collar, no woman ran against me, I know nothing about any woman—both prisoners were drunk"—I have notes of the other witnesses who were called on that day—Patrick Gallagher, 496 W, was the next witness, then Joseph Spencer, inspector—then for the defence, Hannah Williams, Henry Hare, and Harry Gowdery—the matter was then adjourned to Thursday, 5th April, again before Mr. Montagu Williams—I took notes again—Mr. O'Neill, the surgeon, was the first witness called on that occasion—then James Butler, Lodes, and Gallagher recalled, and others were called on behalf of the police, including William Hester, a constable, and then upon adjudication the Magistrate discharged both Mr. and Mrs. Baker.

Cross-examined. At the time they were discharged Mrs. Colbran, Miss Colbran, and Mr. Clench were not examined—the address that Hannah Williams gave was 15, Havelock Terrace, Battersea Park Road—she was asked where she lived, and she gave that address—in my experience it is not unusual for a person charged with being drunk and disorderly to give their correct name and address on the charge-sheet.

HANNAH WILLIAMS . I am an ironer, and was in the employment of Mr. Thatcher, who keeps a laundry, but I got discharged because I had to come here so many times—I am now living at 23, Stewart's Lane, Battersea, with my grandmother, Mrs. Williams; at No. 25, next door but one, Mr. and Mrs. Baker lived, Mrs. Baker is my aunt—on Saturday, 31st March, about half-past 11 or a quarter to 12, I was at a public-house called the Rock House, in Battersea Park Road, at the corner of Lockington Road—at the other corner is Mr. Butler's oil-shop—Henry Hare and Henry Cowdery were with me—I left the Rock House about half-past 11 or a quarter to 12; I came out of the public-house

and the other two came out after me—I went towards Battersea Park Road, towards Wandsworth—I thought I saw somebody I knew, and I ran, and seeing it was not the party I knew, I turned round, and as I did so I ran into the constable 200, the prisoner—he turned round and slapped my face with his open hand—my uncle, George Baker, then came up from the corner of the oil-shop, and said to the prisoner "What did you do that for and he asked him if he wanted a charge—the prisoner said "Yes, and I will have one"—he then took my uncle by the arm and took him along—another constable, Lodes, caught hold of his other arm, they pushed him a little way down Lockington Road, and after that took him to the station—my aunt came up afterwards, there was a crowd, my aunt walked by my side, we followed to the station—on the way my uncle said "You had better go home and tell your grandmother to bail us out"—they took my uncle inside the station—I saw him standing against the gate, I then left and went to my grandmother's—first I went to the Rock House, I there saw Hare and Cowdery, then I went to my grandmother's—she went to the station later on—in the early morning of Sunday I saw my uncle and aunt, I noticed blood running down my uncle's face—he was sober, and my aunt also—I was sober.

Cross-examined. I have lived in this neighbourhood about 15 years; I know the neighbourhood; Havelock Terrace is about a minute's walk from the police-station—when my aunt was taken to the station I left; I went inside the gate leading up to the station; I went as far as the station steps—my aunt was carrying this little basket—when she went up the steps I saw the basket lying on the ground—at the very beginning of this matter I left the public-house before Hare and Cowdery—I heard them state on the former trial that I left the public-house five minutes before they did—I did not swear then that we all three came out together—I came out first and they followed after—I could not exactly tell how long I was living with Mrs. Barnes—I don't think it was so long as 12 months—I was not living with her at the time I gave evidence at Wandsworth Police-court—I was then living with my grandmother—her address is 23, Stewart's Lane—Mrs. Barnes's is 15, Havelock Terrace—I did not tell Mr. Bird that I was living at 15, Havelock Terrace; it was 23, Stewart's Lane; I gave that address—I did not mention 15, Havelock Terrace—one of my reasons for leaving Mrs. Barnes was because I found out she was a woman of bad character—I found that out about two or three weeks before this case—that was not because I saw a man up in her room—I told you last time that I had on four or five occasions seen men going into her room, and I had seen other things—it was not solely for the purposes of this case that I left Mrs. Barnes and came to live with my grandmother—I can't tell you the date I left Mrs. Barnes; it was two or three weeks before I got the slap in the face; I swear that; it was not two days after I appeared at the police-court, I am sure of that—on this Saturday I knocked off work about 1 o'clock, then I met Hare and Cowdery; I left them one part of the evening for about two hours—I went with them to the Washington; I don't think I stopped with them so long as an hour—I walked with them to Battersea Park Road; I left them a little afterwards—I had not been with them from 1 till 8; I first met them about 6; it was about 7 when I was at the Washington—I did not take any notice of the time—I met them again about 11 at the Rock; I left the Rock

about half-past 11 or a quarter to 12—after I left I ran about 50 yards before I ran into the constable; he was in the middle of a crowd, moving on some boys who were disorderly; they were smashing and beating the tins outside Mr. Butler's place; they were making a noise—the prisoner was the only constable in the middle of the crowd that I could see—I could not see him as I ran into him, because my head was turned; the crowd was moving on as he was standing there, and I turned my head and ran into him—I could see him when I was far off, as I ran along, but as I came along I could not see him, and I ran into him; I was not looking at him then—I found out it was not my friend, and turned back; I turned my head round; at that time I was alone; I had left Hare and Cowdery against the Rock—they were standing there with me, where the constable was, in the crowd; I did not tell you that before; you never asked me; what I have just told you is true—it is not because Hare and Cowdery contradicted me that I say we three were together when the policeman struck me—I heard my grandmother examined here last Sessions; I did not hear her swear that I was not living with her at that time—I heard my uncle say to the constable "Do you want a charge?"—I saw Mr. Butler there; he came up to my uncle; I did not hear him say to my uncle "Don't make a bother here "; I was close to my uncle—I don't know that I must have heard Mr. Butler say that if he did; I was not taking any notice of Mr. Butler; I was as close to him as I am to the Jury—my uncle did not say a word—I heard him say "I am not going to be talked to by b——things like these"—that was not said to the policeman; he said it to Mr. Butler—he did not exactly shout it out; he must have meant the police—the prisoner had hold of his collar then—my uncle is not in the habit of using language like that unless he is in a very bad temper; that is not very often—he is not very often in drink; I have only seen him in drink once, and he did not use bad language—if he is in a bad temper he swears now and then—he did not say that the police were monkey-laced—I only saw one woman there, a young woman, Mrs. Bower—I don't know whether she saw me get the slap; I don't know whether she was there when I ran into the constable; there were a lot of females outside the public-house—I don't consider it a rough neighbourhood—I did not see an old woman selling fusees turned out of the public-house—the police did not tell her to go away, that she was creating a disturbance—my uncle did not then come up and say "Do you want a charge?"—he did not call the police bad names; the police did not tell him to go away about his business, and he did not then say they were b——things; he did not interfere in any way.

The COURT. Just attend. You said before "George Baker then came up to the oil-shop and said 'What did you do that for?' and the prisoner said 'Mind your own business.' "Is that so? A. Yes. Then uncle said "Do you want a charge? "That was how it happened.

By MR. GEOGHEGAN. When I saw my uncle afterwards there was wet blood on his face; it was not trickling down—he was not smothered in blood, only on one side of his face—I saw his head bound up and plaister on it, not at his own house, he came into grandmother's—next day, Sunday, I went into his house—I did not go to the police-station on the Sunday—I do not know the superintendent of police, or any people connected with the police—I did not go and complain to any

person in authority that a man had slapped my face the night before—the first time I mentioned it was at Wandsworth police-court.

Re-examined. When I came out of the Rock I ran towards Wands worth; that was when I thought I saw my friend—when I found it was not my friend I turned back, and it was in running back I ran against the constable—I saw my aunt in the yard in front of the station—I saw her taken inside, into a door—this (produced) is the basket she was carrying.

By the COURT. I don't think I lived in Havelock Terrace so long as a year; I could not exactly tell the time—I did not say before "I have lived at Havelock Terrace twelve or eighteen months," they asked me the question and I said I could not exactly tell them—I said that my uncle and aunt were both sober—they did not use bad language—I did not hear him say "I am not going to be interfered with by a b——thing. "Hare and Cowdery were close to me when I ran into the constable—I said before that they were outside the public-house—I meant that they were standing near the public-house outside.

By MR. GEOGIIEGAN. I saw my aunt going up the steps of the station—I did not see the station closed upon her, it is never closed—I did not see her go through the doorway—I saw her on the top step, a policeman caught hold of me and told me to go out—I did not see her thrown down the steps—I had seen my uncle taken right in—there is one step first, and then eight or nine steps afterwards before you get into the station—I did not tumble down at the first step, if anybody says I did it is false; I went up the steps without falling.

By the JURY. It was in running back that I ran into the policeman—I was not noticing him, I turned round, I turned my head—the bother was taking place in the road just outside the public-house—the crowd was pretty near the public-house.

HENRY HARE . I live at 5, Ingelow Road, Battersea—I am a mason by trade—on the evening of 31st March last, I was in company with the last witness and Harry Cowdery, in the Rock public-house—we left between half-past 11 and a quarter to 12, and went towards Wandsworth—we did not go far up the road, about five or ten minutes' walk—we then turned and came back—Hannah Williams ran away from us; she had walked with us up to there, she ran into a constable, the prisoner he turned round and smacked her face—I saw a little bit of a row then; I saw Mr. Baker, as I know now, come up; I did not know him before—he asked the constable what he had done that for—I did not hear what he said, I heard him say that; I did not hear what the constable said, I saw him shove him, he started pushing him down the street, away from where the disturbance was going on—I saw another constable, 1 don't know his name, I have seen him at the station—I said to Baker "Come away, Mr. Baker, or they will lock you up"—I did not say "Mr. Baker, "Isaid "Come away, or they will lock you up"—he never said anything to me—then Mrs. Baker came up—at that time both the police men had hold of Baker—I did not hear Mrs. Baker say anything to the policemen, or anything said by one of them to the other—I stopped a little while, they went to the police-station as soon as she came up, pretty nigh—I stopped there, I did not follow on to the station—later on I accompanied Hannah Williams to her grandmother's to see about bail

—I was sober, so was Hannah Williams and Cowdery—the two Bakers Were sober.

Cross-examined. I met Hannah Williams about 7 o'clock—I did not stop an hour in the Washington, I never went in there, I was near it; I did not see her go in—if she says we went into the Washington and remained there nearly an hour it is not true—we went into the Rock House about 11 and stopped there, I think, about 10 minutes, not half-an-hour—if she says we stopped there half-an-hour, that is all wrong—the three of us came out together, and went for five or ten minutes' walk up the road, and as we turned to come back she saw some person she thought was her friend, and started running—I have been Hannah Williams once since the last trial, just outside the Park Town public-house, last Saturday—I have been her once or twice, but not to speak to her; I have seen her up the road and just nodded, I have not stopped and spoken to her, I don't keep her company—I have not been frequently in her company, not at all; I have not spoken to her about the case at all, or to Cowdery; he is a pal of mine—I have not spoken a word to him about it—I don't see him every day, I have not seen him three of four times a week—I did not speak to him about the trial, or about the evidence I gave—my story is that we three went up the road together, and then the girl turned round and ran into the constable, that was the first time she started running—when I told Baker to go away or he would be locked up, the two constables were holding him and shoving him about—I did not shove him; I pushed him away, to go away—I said to him "Why don't you go away?"—he was not objecting to go away; as soon as I shoved him the police got hold of him—I said "Why not go away, Mr. Baker, or they will lock you up"—the police were shoving him about then; they shoved him first, he stopped then—I did not see the constables clearing away a number of boys—I did not hear a disturbance about pails rattling—I did not see the policeman in the middle of the crowd moving them on; I heard no noise or swearing—at the time the constable slapped the girl's face he was not engaged moving disorderly boys about their business that I know of; I was not 50 yards away, I daresay I was as far away as from here to the back of the Court—I was not that distance from her—I saw the policeman smack her face—when she turned round she might have been us, because as soon as the policeman smacked her face I went up quick—I was there the whole time till they were taken to the station—I saw pretty nigh all that took place—I did not see Mr. Butler come up—I did not hear Baker say to the constable "Do you Want a charge? "Iwas not taking any notice—I did not hear Baker say "I won't be talked to by b——things like these"—I saw Mrs. Baker come up, she only put her hand on the policeman, and on Baker's shoulder, that was when he was in custody—I did not hear her say "If you take him you must take me, "Icould not swear she did not—I did not go to the station, I went to the Police-court the following Monday, that was Bank Holiday, I was called as a witness then—I say absolutely that I did not go into the Washington public-house—it is a music hall.

HARRY COWDERY . I am a labourer at the Gas Works, Nine Elms—on Saturday, 31st March, I was with Hannah Williams and Hare in the Rock—she left first; we all came out together about half-past 11—we crossed over to Butler's shop, crossing the Lockington Road, and she ran

into the policeman on the pathway in coming across the Lockington Road—the policeman smacked her in the face; I saw that—Baker came up when she was slapped, and asked the policeman, 200, "What did you do that for—he said "Mind your own business"—Baker said "It is my own business"—then they took him to the police-station—I saw Mrs. Baker; she had just come out of Mr. Butler's shop.

Cross-examined. I and Hare met Williams between half-past 6 and 7 that afternoon up the Battersea Park Road—I know the Washington; it is a music hall; there is a bar there—we all three went into the Washington, and remained there about an hour—we had drink, there is no doubt about it—we three loft the Rock, and were walking across the Lockington Road when Williams ran accidentally into the constable; I saw the man slap her face—I said at Wandsworth Police-court I did not see him slap her in the face, but she told me he had—I was con fused up there, being in Court for the first time—I am not confused to day; you can rely on my account—I saw Baker come up, and I could hear what Baker said, there is no doubt about it—I did not hear him say "Do you want a charge?"—I saw him marched off to the station—I went away up the road after they took him away—I was not close to him—I did not hear him say he would not be talked to by such b——things as these; nothing of the sort—I did not hear the other witness say "Go away," and push him—I did not hear him say "You had better go away or you will be locked up"—I did not see the constable clearing away some boys—I heard no disturbance, no tins rattling, nothing rattling at all—at the time the slap was given the constable was alone crossing the road; there was no crowd near him.

Re-examined. This is a busy place at night—there were about 10 or 20 people, roughly, about where the constable was.

GEORGE BAKER . I live at 25, Stewart's Lane, West Battersea—I have lived in this house two years, and have been in that road about 13 years—on Saturday night, 31st March, my wife Elizabeth was living with me, and I was in the employment of the South Metropolitan Gas Company as sawyer—I had not been at work that day—I went out. on this night with my wife, who was carrying a little hand-basket—we went to Mr. Butler's oil-shop at the corner of the Lockington Road and Battersea Park Road—on the other side of the Lockington Road is the Rock—I did not go with her into Mr. Butler's; I stepped inside the door, and said "Good evening, Mr. Butler," and walked out; I might have taken one or perhaps two paces inside—I came out, and waited there for my wife, she being in the shop; this was between 11 and 12 o'clock—while she was in the shop I saw policeman, No. 200, the prisoner, and 574, Lodes, driving some boys away, as I could understand, that had been rattling Mr. Butler's tins that were for sale outside the shop—as they were running after these boys my niece accidentally ran against No. 200—I did not know when she ran against the policeman who she was—she was then about 20 or 30 yards from Mr. Butler's, where I was standing, I should say; it might be less or more—she ran against him as he was returning, walking back, from chasing the boys—the prisoner turned and smacked her in the face with his open hand—when I saw that I went up and said "What did you hit that girl for—the girl turned, and I saw then she was my niece—he said "Mind your own business; what has that to do with you—I said "I will let you know what it has to do with me"—Lodes said "Come

on, let us charge him"—they then took me in charge—I said "I will go voluntarily with you to the police-station," and I walked with them to the station—they caught hold of me, and 1 walked with them quietly, because I voluntarily went; I had nothing to resist—my wife came out during the time this was going on; the police had got hold of me, and she asked me what was the matter, and what they were going to charge me for—the answer was "Mind your own business"—I cannot remember seeing Mr. Butler—then I walked to the station; my wife followed behind; she did not touch me or interfere with me at all, as I remember; she did not try in any way to rescue me—she followed to the station; I was taken into the station, and she was brought in afterwards by No. 496—at that time 1 had not seen her in custody, but soon afterwards she was brought in by Gallagher, 496, the constable outside the gate—as I went up the passage of the station to go into the charge-room, a man in a jersey, who I found afterwards was Constable Hester, stood there; as soon as I got into the police-station, Nos. 200 and 574 caught me by the arms and held me, and this man pitched into me—he hit me on the head, my hat Mew off at the first blow, I was hit four or five blows—I had done nothing to provoke him—I cannot tell what the motive was—I did not notice if I was injured at that time; I heard my wife-screaming in the passage—I was in the dock when she was brought in—the inspector was not there then, he came in behind my wife, at the same time—we were both in the dock—No. 574 made a charge of my being drunk and disorderly—I said to the inspector ".Do you really think I am drunk—he answered "Anyone is drunk that is brought here"—I wanted to explain things to him, and he told me to hold my tongue; if I did not hold my tongue he would put me in a cell and take the charge against me when I was not there—he took the charge—we were both removed to the cells—when I got to the cell I asked the inspector if he would get me bail, he said "Oh, yes, presently"—I gave the name and address of my mother-in-law, Mrs. Williams, as bail—the cell door was shut, and I was locked up—during the time the charge was being taken, my wife complained of 496 making beastly motions to her, I did not see him, I was appealing to the inspector, who would not let me speak; he would not take notice—after I was in my cell I heard Gallagher say to my wife "Oh, Tottie! how are you getting on? how should you like me in there for half-an-hour?"—I had not noticed in what state my head was till I got in the cell, and then perhaps four or five minutes after I was in the cell I found blood trickling down my head—up to the time of my being taken into the station I am quite sure I had met with no injury, because 1 walked along with 200—I had received no violence at all beyond the blows given me by Hester—when I found my head was bleeding, I went and sat down in the corner and held my head over the closet pan inside my cell—from the time I was first in the cell till I came out was about three quarters of an hour, as near as I could guess—Gallagher came and said "Your bail is arrived"—he unlocked the door of my wife's cell first, and then he came and unlocked mine, and we both came into the passage, Mr. Butler will prove this as well—I found Mr. Butler there, I had not sent for him, he bailed me and my wife out—I asked the inspector, in Butler's and my mother-in-law's presence, to allow me to have a doctor before I left the station—it is not true that when I was getting out of the cell, when I heard about bail, I knocked

my head against the doorpost and injured my head and fell back—Gallagher, at Wandsworth, suggested I might have done so—he states now 1 did do so when he came and told me about the bail—it is not true that I knocked my head against the post and fell back and injured myself—my head was injured by the policeman striking me—when I asked the inspector about sending for a doctor, he said "Yes, you shall have a doctor," and then he said "No, you shan't have a doctor; you can have one when you get outside"—when I got outside I went to Dr. O'Neill's, next door; he saw me and dressed the wound in my head, and then I and my wife went home—I noticed when my wife first came into the station she had this basket, it was booked in the charge sheet—my wife brought it in, there was a tin of salmon in it—when I went with my wife to Mr. Butler's shop I was as sober as I am now, and my wife also; I never knew her drink nothing on the quiet unknown to me—Hannah Williams appeared to be sober as far as I could see, for I had not much time to see from the time the policeman took me in charge till I was locked up—when I was first charged I gave my name and address—when I left I signed this book; this is my writing, and my wife signed this, "Elizabeth Baker," it is her writing—this is my ordinary signature, I am no scholar, it is as well as I can write.

Cross-examined. Before I wrote that signature I had been for three quarters of an hour alone in the cell—my wife went up to the counter in Butler's shop, and I stood half in and half out, on the step and nodded to Butler and said "Good evening"—it is not correct to say I went in with my wife and stopped there five minutes—I did not say to the policeman "Do you want a charge?"—if my niece says I said so as far as I know it is not true—I made no use of vulgar, abusive, insulting words to the police—I am not a saint altogether—I did not say to Butler in the hearing of my niece "I won't be talked to by b things like these;" if Butler and my niece say it, it is not true; I never saw Butler—Butler did not come up and say "Don't make a bother"—I don't believe I uttered such a word as "I won't be talked to by b——things like these"—I did not call the police b——things—if my niece says I did it is not true—if Butler says I did I should not believe it—I don't recollect Butler speaking to me—I don't remember a witness coming up and saying I had better go away or they would lock me up—I am not aware that he said "Why don't you go away?"—Hare or Cowdery did not come up and put his hand on my shoulder and shove me down the Lockington Road, and say "Why don't you go away or you will be locked up?" that is not true—when I got into the police-station there was a man standing in a jersey in the passage whom I now know as a constable—he never spoke a word to me—I had never seen him before to my knowledge; he was a perfect stranger to me—I never gave him any provocation or any reason to lay a finger on me—without the slightest provocation from me he hit me four violent blows on the head, without speaking to me; I swear that—the inspector wrote the charge down against me and took the charge against my wife in my hearing—I gave him my name and address—I had a conversation with the inspector, and tried to explain things; he would not listen to me—altogether it took perhaps more than five minutes—the blood trickled down my head; I have not my collar—I showed it to Mr. Montagu Williams—the wound was at the back of the head; the blood could have trickled down the

back of my head without my knowing it for an hour—it might have been ten minutes, perhaps it might have been a quarter of an hour, after the blow was given before I found out my head was bleeding; I would not say to a minute, being a little excited over the case. I could not say—it was not a quarter of an hour before the blood trickled down my collar—I say the blood might have trickled down the back of my head and I not know it—when I found I was bleeding I went and sat down on the seat of the closet in the corner of the cell and held my head over into the pan—I was not three-quarters of an hour in the cell—it was three-quarters of an hour from the time I was locked up till I was let out—I was half an hour in the cell; it might be more or less—it was about three-quarters of an hour from the time the charge was taken—I said at the last trial about three-quarters of an hour; I meant that it was three-quarters of an hour from the time I was taken into the station till the time I was let out—we were there a quarter of an hour while bail was being taken—we might have been at least half-an-hour in the cell—the blood was not running fast; it was a small punctured wound; I was not bleeding like a pig; I was smothered in blood about the head and collar; I had not lost a quantity of blood—I admit I said last time II When I found I was bleeding I could hear my wife speaking; I called to her and said 'These policemen have cut my head open.' She said 'Where?' I said "I cannot tell where; I am bleeding like a pig,'" that is a common saying—"I held my head over the pan in the cell because I was smothered in blood; my scarf was smothered in blood"—I adopt the expression that when I called out to my wife I was smothered in blood—there was wet blood on my face when I went to the doctor's; it was still trickling out of this punctured wound; the doctor stopped the bleeding—I do not suggest that the policeman had a knife in his hand—I had a punctured wound on my head, from which the blood flowed—when the inspector took the charge I said the constable had assaulted me—I said another constable made indecent gestures to my wife—574, 496, and 200 were present when the charge was taken; the man who struck me was gone then—I say that in the presence of the inspector 496 made indecent gestures to my wife—she complained two or three times to the inspector, who took no notice; he was writing, and looked round, but did nothing more; he never answered the constable, and then the inspector, in the hearing of the three constables, said if I was not quiet he would charge me in my absence—naturally I thought he could do such a thing, or I should have kept on talking—I had my hat on in the dock—the inspector would not let me talk—I asked him if I was sober or drunk—he said in the presence of the constables "Any person is drunk who is brought in here"—I said "I must speak about what happened since I came in here," and he said "Hold your tongue"—there is a gaslight in the passage; there is a light in the cell; I could not say if you could read by it—I could see the cell and see everything in it; I did not notice the lock of the door, not when I went in or out; I do not know that it projects in the ordinary way—I did not notice the electric bell in the cell—when Gallagher came to tell me bail had come he came to let me and my wife out—he opened the wicket and said "Bail has come," and he opened the door at the same time; Mr. Butler will prove that—when Gallagher let down the wicket I did not scramble forward and come with my head against the lock—there was a stone in the ring I was struck with, and he

took the stone ring off and wears a plain ring instead of it—I did not see it; I believe it; that is my allegation; 1 don't know that he had on a silver ring as well—I suggested, when I was before Mr. Montagu Williams, that the man had a ring with a stone in it; I did not suggest I had seen it; I have not seen it—I said he took off a ring with a stone; I am told that by people who say he wears the ring; I can fetch the people—a man named Light is one; he works in the gas works—he says Hester used to wear a stone ring—he must have had a ring on his right hand when he struck me; his knuckles would never have done what he did—I heard the doctor suggest that the only way that the puncture could have been caused on the top of my head was by a person wearing a ring with a stone in it, if it were done by hand—I told 200 and 496 I would go quietly to the station—it is not right to say the inspector went down the steps of the station and assisted me up; you are wrong; he states he helped my wife up, not me—it is not correct to say he helped my wife up the steps; he states so—he followed behind her into the station.

Re-examined. I did not see the ring on the man's hand when he struck me; Light tells me—when I speak about the ring having a stone in it it is an inference I draw from what I have heard—I signed the depositions at Bow Street in my ordinary writing.

ELIZABETH HANNAH BAKER . I am the wife of George Baker—on Saturday night, 31st March, I went out with him—we went to Mr. Butler's shop about half-past 11 or a quarter to 12, I should think—I went into the shop, my husband stood outside—I had this basket with me—I was dressed the same as I am now, I had no shawl on—I took the basket in the shop, I saw Butler there; I bought a tin of salmon, paid for it, and it was put into the basket—I then left the shop, carrying the basket with me—when I came outside I saw my husband standing in the road with two constables, who had hold of each of his arms; he was a few yards from Mr. Butler's shop-door—I went up to him and asked him what was the matter—he said the constable had struck Hannah, my niece, in the face; and he said "I asked the constable what he did it for, and he told me to mind my own business," and with that they took him to the station—the prisoner was one of the constables, and Lodes the other—my husband was perfectly sober—I had been in his company that evening—we went out and came home again, and I think we went out again about 9 o'clock to get something for breakfast—I was perfectly sober, I had had nothing to drink—as my husband went to the station I followed with him—I put my hand on his shoulder as we were standing—Hannah Williams followed too—on the way to the station I did not pull him at all, or attempt to rescue him, or touch the policemen—I saw my husband taken into the station—I went into the garden in front of the station—I was carrying the basket in my hand—after my husband had been taken in, Gallagher came down the steps, took me by the arm, and kind of put his legs against me, and tripped me on the steps, and I fell and hurt my side; the basket fell out of my hand—Gallagher took me into the station—a policeman brought my basket in, I cannot say who it was—when I got into the station my husband was sitting in the dock—I was placed in the dock—I gave my name and address, my husband did likewise—as I stood in the dock Gallagher was standing by the side of me, and he made beastly motions

to me with his eyes—I thought they were beastly motions, the way he was acting—I called the attention of the inspector, who told me to hold my tongue—I was taken to the cell—I heard nothing about bail—my husband was put into a cell—while in the cell Gallagher came to the cell-door and said "Tottie, would you like me in there for half an hour with you?"—I told him he ought to be ashamed of himself, and my husband called from the next cell and said "You scoundrel"—we were not locked up for a wonderful long time, we were locked up soon after 1 o'clock I think—I was told bail had come, and came into the station, where I saw Mr. Butler and my mother-in-law—we were bailed—when my husband was in the cell he called to me and said "Lizzy, my head is bleeding"—that was as soon as he got inside the cell—up to that time I had not seen any blood, because his hat was on—when I was told bail had arrived and came out I saw blood flowing down his forehead—I signed this "Elizabeth Baker" before I left the station that night—it is my ordinary signature, sometimes I put my two names; I signed my depositions "Elizabeth Hannah"—for shortness I sometimes put Elizabeth Baker—my husband wished for a surgeon, and the inspector told him if he wanted a doctor he would have to be answerable for it, and my husband said "I am quite willing to do so"—he told my husband to wait till he went out—when we went out we went next door, to Mr. O'Neill's, who examined my husband and dressed his wound—I was in the room at the time, then we both went home together—on Monday morning we were taken before Mr. Montagu Williams and discharged—I had never seen any of these constables before that night.

Cross-examined. Gallagher tripped me up on the steps and I fell, I don't say violently, but so as to hurt myself—I did not roll down a step or two, I fell on the steps—my dress was not injured, it was only a little dusty, nothing to speak of—there was jet trimming on my jacket, not on my dress; it was this jacket I have on now; it was not injured in any way—my dress was not disarranged at all—I went perfectly quietly, following my husband—in the station I was perfectly quiet too—it is not right to say I was screaming—my husband might have heard me talking—I went into Butler's shop first, my husband came to the door—he did go inside and walk out again—I did not notice if he went to the counter with me—I was in the shop long enough for Butler to serve me, and for him to come out to the door again—there were other persons in the shop besides me—I don't say Butler served me at once; he served me within five minutes—he was the only person behind the counter—other customers were there; I waited a little time, not so long—he was talking to the other customers while I was waiting—I paid him when he gave, me the tin; I cannot say if I required change—I said different little things to Butler; I don't think it wise to say them—I did not purchase anything else—I saw Butler come up to my husband after the constables had hold of him—I was a yard or two away from Butler then; I did not hear what was said, I was listening to a person who said to me "What a scandalous shame it is to see two policemen taking a man innocent"—Butler was talking then, I could not listen to two persons at once—I did not hear what Butler said—my husband did not say to Butler "I won't be talked to by b things like these"—I did not see a man put his hand on my husband's shoulder and say "Don't make a bother, or you will be locked up"—I did not notice that; I was talking to

people at the back—I said last time this man made beastly motions and beastly gestures to me—he looked at me and nodded his head; I cannot make the beastly motions to you in front of gentlemen; I don't think I could do in front of you what he did to me—he did it in front of the inspector; I called the inspector's attention, and he told me to hold my tongue—the inspector told my husband first to hold his tongue, and then he told me to hold mine—I don't know what he said to my husband; I had enough to do to look after myself—as soon as I got inside the cell door, my husband said "My head is bleeding"—I said "What is the matter?"—he said "Did you see the man in a jersey as I came in the station? he hit me on the head, and he must have had a ring on his finger, or something in his hand"—he said he was bleeding like a pig, and was smothered in blood—he said that as soon as I was in the cell—the cell doors were shut within a minute of each other—he was not in the cell five minutes before he found it out, there might have been a minute or two elapse—I said "Who done it?"—he said "A man in a jersey," and I saw the man in the jersey standing at the charge-room door when I went in—blood was streaming down my husband's face when we went to Dr. O'Neill's; I don't know if he was bleeding badly—his coat and collar at the back were saturated—I did not notice the front when he had his hat on his head—the collar of his coat and his linen collar were saturated with blood—the collar was very wet—he did not appear faint or drowsy; I did not notice much difference in him, he was a little excited—I was excited—I did not say to the police "You shan't take him unless you take me"—Gallagher came and visited me when I was in the cell—he did not lift the wicket and look through—he did not at any time ask me if I was all right—all he said was about "Tottie, would you like me to be in there?"—after my husband spoke to me and said he was bleeding, Gallagher visited me in the cell—I did not ask him to go for a doctor—I did not say "My husband complains he is bleeding"—I did not see an electric bell inside the cell; I had never been in such a place before—I did not call out for someone to come—I did not notice whether my husband did or not—I know Mr. Clench by going to his shop now and again—his father is a tradesman—I don't know if he assists in the business—I have seen him in the shop behind the counter, and outside the shop—he was called at the last trial for the defence—it is not true I called the police "a b——pack of curs"—I have not seen Clench here to-day—I did not see an old woman there selling fusees—I did not hear the police tell her to be off about her business because she was making a disturbance—there were a lot of boys outside the shop, and Mr. Butler came out to drive them away—before they were driven away I heard the tins being rattled about.

Re-examined. When we came out of the cells to be bailed, we both came out together—Gallagher came and opened the door of my cell first, and I stood while he opened the door of my husband's, and we went up from the cells together to have bail taken.

By the COURT. I said last time "I may have put my hand on my husband's shoulder and touched him on the shoulder," that is right—I did not call the police b curs, and say they ought to be hanged—if any one says that it is not true, it is quite false.

JAMES BUTLER . I keep an oilshop at 155, Battersea Park Road, at the corner of Lockington Road, the Rock public-house is at the opposite

corner—I have known Mr. and Mrs. Baker about four or five years as customers—I recollect their coming to my shop on Saturday night, 31st March, about twenty-five minutes to 12, Mrs. Baker came in first, and Mr. Baker came in; he stopped for a moment or so and then went outside again—I spoke to him; I simply asked him if he was better than he was; he had been ill—he said he was much better—just afterwards a little bother took place outside—Baker went to the door, and I went to the door after I had served Mrs. Baker; I heard a noise outside, and two policemen were chasing some lads from the lamp-post opposite my shop, at the Rock House—I did not see what occasioned the interference with the lads; I believe they were saucy, calling out, nothing more, there was really no bother, they were noisy, that was all—when I got out Baker had just stepped from the shop door to the pavement, then he crossed the pavement—Mrs. Baker had been served before I went round the counter; she was behind me as I turned to go into the shop again; then a customer came in, and I was serving him about two or three minutes, then I went to the door again, and saw a number of persons down Lockington Road, and Mr. and Mrs. Baker, she had hold of Baker's arm, and the two constables were following them down the street, at least, they had come to a standstill then—they were about fifteen or twenty yards down the street on my side of the way, that would be towards where the Bakers live, they were really going home that way; that would be their Way home—I went up and asked Baker what was the matter, and not receiving any reply, I asked him again, and the answer he made was he should not be talked to by a b——thing like that—I said "Don't have a bother," and he said "I won't be talked to by a b——thing like that"—I then went back to my shop—afterwards I saw them on the opposite side of the road—they were then some little distance further down the road, still followed by the policemen, and in a few minutes I saw them being brought back by the police—I can't say that both of them were in custody, Baker was—they were not in custody when he said he would not be spoke to by a b——thing like that—they were walking quietly when Baker was being taken to the station—in conesquence of what I saw, when I had shut up my shop I went to the station—I got there about twenty-five minutes to 1—I spoke to the Inspector and professed my willingness to bail them—I did not see Mrs. Williams, the mother-in-law, at that time, she came afterwards—I saw Mr. and Mrs. Baker brought into the charge-room; they both came almost together, Mrs. Baker first, from the cells, there may have been a moment or so between—496, Gallagher, brought them in; he was really the only one there in the station at the time—I remained in the charge-room till they were dismissed—when Baker turned round facing me and his wife, his wife stood near the dock and Baker opposite—I should say that the Inspector said "How came you by that? you had not that when you left the dock," meaning the state of his face—I saw blood down the left side of his face on to his coat collar—he said "No, a man in the jersey done that"—no, he said "a con Stable done that, "Ishould say; and his wife turned round and said "This one," meaning Gallagher—Baker said "No, not that one, one in a jersey struck me"—the Inspector said "Oh, you must have had a fall in the cell"—Baker said "No such thing," he had not—then afterwards he asked the Inspector for a doctor-between the time of

Baker being brought into the charge-room and leaving the station, Gallagher did not give any account to the Inspector of how the injury was done—I am sure of that, or else I should have heard it—some words passed between Mrs. Baker and Gallagher and the mother, I believe, what they were I don't know—nothing was said to the Inspector, because I stood between the constable and the Inspector—if Gallagher had told the Inspector how the injury was caused in the cell, I must have heard it, because I stood against the Inspector's desk—when Baker asked for a doctor, the Inspector said "You can't have one," or words to that effect—Baker said "I want a doctor, let the old woman fetch a doctor"—the Inspector was writing at the time and he turned round and said "If you want a doctor you must be prepared to pay his fees"—he said "That I can do," and he put his hand in his pocket—I asked him to wait and go and see the doctor next door—then the book was signed, I signed it and Mr. and Mrs. Baker, and they went away, and I went home—both Mr. and Mrs. Baker were sober—I have not the slightest doubt about it, especially the woman, because I saw more of her than Baker—he went to the door a moment or two after he was in the shop; there was no drink about him at all—I saw him in the charge-room when he was about to be dismissed; I observed him then, he was sober—no one could have made a mistake about it.

Cross-examined. I did not see the whole of this occurrence; I saw it at intervals—I had to return and serve a customer, and then went out again—I did not that I am aware of state at the last hearing that Baker was in my shop five minutes—I did not say he nodded to me; he came in behind his wife, and it may have been two or three minutes; I can't say it was longer than that—if I said he only entered the shop and simply nodded, and that he was in the shop about five minutes, that would certainly be wrong; he came inside, and I spoke to him about his health—the boys had not been banging my tins about; that was a mistake that arose last time—it is not correct to say that I went out to drive the boys away; if Mrs. Baker has said so it is not true—she saw me going to the door to protect my goods which were outside—the tins very often get knocked about, but there was really not what you could call a bother—Battersea Park Road on a Saturday night is not the quietest part of London; it is rather rowdy at times, and there is bad language at times, and very rough characters—I have baths and so on outside—very likely, as people go by, they have a knock at them, the schoolboys especially—they were not doing it on this Saturday night, I am sure about that; if they did I did not notice it—if any one gives them a tap I do not notice it; if they knock them down I do—it is not correct to say that I went to the door because I heard the boys knocking my pails about—when I went out I said to Baker "Don't have a bother," and he said "I won't be talked to by b things like these"—there is no doubt about that; if he denies both those statements I say what I have said is true—Mrs. Baker bought a tin of salmon—there were two other customers in the shop—I served Mrs. Baker—the boys were chaffing the constable; I don't know what words they used; I did not hear any swearing—when Mrs. Baker came in I was serving somebody else, and that would account for the man being five minutes in the shop; I can't say that he was five minutes in the shop—I was serving one customer when he came into the shop—I did not go to the station for half an hour after they were taken

—it is not correct to say that a crowd of 200 or 300 people followed them to the station—there were a lot of people about the Rock when they passed; that was the last I saw of them—no one was assisting the policeman—no one went to the station to give evidence on behalf of the Bakers while I was there—there may have been a crowd of 50 people.

Re-examined. When I said to Baker "Don't make a bother," he took no notice at first; he was engaged with his wife—she had him by the arm—the constable did not speak a word.

PATRICK JAMES O'NEILL . I am a registered medical practitioner, of 145, Battersea Park Road, next door to the police-station—about 1 o'clock on Sunday morning, 1st April, I was called up—I came down, and saw Mr. and Mrs. Baker—I opened the door, and let them in; I knew them—Mrs. Williams, the mother, was also there; they came into the house—there was blood on Baker's forehead, and a wound on the back of his head on the left side—a clot of blood was dry on the forehead, there was a little blood flowing on it, and the hair was damp with blood—I dressed the wound and sent him home—there was a slight abrasion and a small punctured wound—a blow with a signet ring on the finger would produce it—he was with me I should say five or 10 minutes—he was sober and his wife was sober.

Cross-examined. A man locked up in a cell by himself for half or three-quarters of an hour would probably have a sobering effect; a little bloodletting would relieve the head—the shock of being locked up would have a sobering effect—I had a cold, and therefore could not detect by sense of smell—they were not drunk; I could not swear whether they had been drinking; Baker was slightly drowsy—I have seen the cell in which Baker was locked up—the lock is about an inch and a quarter or an inch and a half raised from the door—there are four corners to the lock; two of them would go close up, and two would be left. (The witness Baker and Police-constable Hester were called, and placed shoulder to shoulder.) Baker is an inch and a quarter the taller of the two—a man struck on the head with a signet ring might have caused the puncture—the direction of the wound proves this, that the man was struck from the front, and he must have been stooping—if the man was pinned down by his two hands and holding his head up it would be an impossibility for the wound to be given it would be going round the corner.

By the COURT. A man's hand, unless there was a ring on it, could not have produced the wound I saw, which was an abrasion ending in a puncture; it may have been caused by a fall against the edge of a lock in a door.

Re-examined. There was no other wound or mark except on the head—the quantity of blood that would follow from the wound would depend upon his condition at the time—in an ordinary cool condition there would not be much blood come from him; the blood would be mainly from the puncture, the abrasion would not produce any, a puncture would bleed—a portion of the blood had dried on the forehead, that must have flowed and settled there for some time, dried and crusted; I should say that the blood that was on the forehead from the first time till I had to remove it might be a quarter of an hour, all the blood came forward—I could not say whether any of it dried on the head—there was nothing in their manner or demeanour to indicate, all the time they were with me, that they were not perfectly sober.

By the COURT. The man was drowsy, bleeding, and an hour's rest, and pain would tend to fetch a man round if he was the worse for drink; pain would not make him drowsy, it would tend to keep him awake—I came to the conclusion, as he said he held his head over the pan in the closet for some time, that that might make him drowsy—it might have arisen from the effects of drink; the direction of the wound was from before, backwards.

By the JURY. The flow of blood commenced from the forehead, stopped where the wound was, and went backwards—as far as I could see; I thoroughly examined him.

GEORGE BAKER (Re-examined). I produced my collar at Wandsworth before Mr. Williams (Undoing his collar and handing his cravat to the Jury)—I found the blood trickling down my back—I was wearing this cravat and collar at the time—the collar was produced twice at Wandsworth—it was washed afterwards.

HANNAH WILLIAMS . I am the wife of John Williams—I live at 23, Stewart's Lane, West Battersea—on Saturday night or early on Easter Sunday morning Gallagher came to see me about bailing Mr. and Mrs. Baker out, and I went there—Mr. and Mrs. Baker were brought into the charge-room together—it is not true that Mrs. Baker was brought first, and then that there was an interval, and Baker was brought in—they both came to the door together, Mr. Baker came first—I saw blood all down the left side of his face, streaming from his face—I said "George, whatever is the matter—he said "This is what the policeman has done, he has hit me on the head and cut me on the head," and he turned round and said "Fetch a doctor," and the inspector said "If you want a doctor you will have to send for one, wait till you go out"—he waited till he went out, and then we three went to Mr. O'Neill's together—I heard a constable in the charge-room tell the inspector that the injury to my son-in-law's head was done in the room—I did not say that last time, because I was not asked—they were perfectly sober—Hannah Williams was quite sober—I went into the doctor's with Mr. and Mrs. Baker; Mr. O'Neill wiped the blood off the side of his face, and then I went home with them.

Cross-examined. He was bleeding very badly down the left side of his face and down his forehead—when he went into Mr. O'Neill's I saw blood on the top of his head and the side of his face and his fore head, and where blood had run down the collar of his coat behind—Hannah Williams has been living with me from nine months old—she left me a little while—she left me, I should think, for four or five months, to live with Mrs. Barnes; it was not so long as 12 months—she and her grandfather could not agree; he has a bad temper—she was not living with me on Easter Monday when she was charged at Wandsworth—she came in and went away again—she went to her mother's for a night or two; it might have been to Mrs. Barnes's, very likely it was—15, Havelock Terrace is Mrs. Barnes's address—she had been living with me—I think she went away one night to sleep at Mrs. Barnes's, that was the Friday or Saturday—she was not living with me on the Saturday; she slept at Mrs. Barnes's on the Saturday—on the Sunday she slept with me—I will not swear she slept at my house on the Easter Sunday night; I expect she slept at Mrs. Barnes's that night—I believe it was before 12th May she came to live with me; I cannot positively say—she did not

come to live with me on 12th May in order to get a respectable address for the purpose of this inquiry—she came back to me on the Easter Sunday night—I believe she slept with me that night; if not with me she slept with Mrs. Barnes or with my daughter—she did not sleep with me, she might have slept in my house—she occupied a bed in my house to my knowledge—Mr. and Mrs. Baker came up from the cells together—Mrs. Baker came into the room first; they both came to the door together, but Mrs. Baker just stepped in first—I did not see if a constable brought them up—I kept my eye on Mr. Baker's head—I was standing against the inspector, and saw them both come inside the room.

Witnesses for the Defence.

MARY CHARITY COLBRAN . I am the wife of William Colbran, and live at 12, Raymond Street, Battersea—before this case I had no connection whatever with the police—I knew none of the parties in this case; all of them were perfect strangers to me, and, with the exception of seeing them in this case, they are perfect strangers now—on Saturday night, 31st March, I was out with my daughter shopping near Mr. Butler's—the Rock is just opposite his shop—as we were passing his shop I saw an old lady coming out of the Rock—she was selling fusees; she was the worse for drink, and was swearing to herself, I think—two policemen were coming up from the station, and came to the corner just as the old lady was going round—they spoke to her, and she went towards the police-station—the policemen were going across the crossing, and Mr. and Mrs. Baker and Hannah Williams were standing on the crossing of the Lockington Road in the middle of the roadway—they said something to the policemen; I did not hear what—the policemen walked away about three or four shops up the road, and the three people holloaed after them—they called them monkey faces first and then b——b——; one called them monkey faces and another b——b——they hooted and shouted after the police—the police returned, and told them if they did not go away they would lock them up—they did not go away; the police then took hold of Mr. Baker, who tried to get away—Mr. Butler came out of his shop while Baker and the police were struggling together; he came up, and went back to his shop—I did not hear what was said—when he was gone they got hold of Baker, and took him to the station; I followed them there—I saw no one else then in charge of the police—a lot of people and Williams and Mrs. Baker were following—outside the station Mrs. Baker was catching hold of her husband's arm, and trying to rescue him from the police, and she had hold of the tails of the policemen's coats; two policemen had got him then—she was trying to get Baker away—I saw a gentleman with a cape on, who I have heard since is the inspector, standing at the top of the station steps—he had no helmet on—afterwards I saw Williams; she fell down behind me—I don't know if she was trying to get into the station, and was pushed back; I was not close enough for that—I saw no one strike a blow—she fell down behind where I was standing looking over the railings—she was not pushed or knocked down, but she fell down—the others had gone into the station—Williams was drunk and the other two were drunk—I saw a statement of what took place in the paper; my husband read it out to me, and told me I should go as a witness—that is the reason I have been a witness on the part of the police—he said I ought to go up to the station and make a statement

—I did not see either of the constables molest or slap Williams in the face.

Cross-examined. I am quite sure I did not know Inspector Spencer before 31st March—I never visited him, and he never visited at my house before 31st March, when this occurred—I know Gallagher now; I did not before this occurrence—I was not drinking with him in the Rock before or since this occurrence—I have never been with Gallagher in the Rock—I was at the top of the Lockington Road—we had come down the Battersea Park Road from the Wandsworth end, and turned into the Lockington Road—as we were crossing the Lockington Road I saw the three persons, Mr. and Mrs. Baker and Williams; there is no mistake about that—I did not hear what they said in the first instance; they did not speak very loud, I suppose—they were speaking to the constables, both talking together; they were near the constables, opposite each other—the constables walked away, we stood still, and then I heard improper language used by all of them—first they said monkey face; I don't think they all said it at once; one said it one time and one another—they said b——b———; that was all I heard—the police went past several shops before they turned back; I don't know how many yards—there was no disturbance when they called out; it was very quiet at first—the fusee woman was turned out when they came up; she was coming out of the house when we were coming round the corner, and these three people were standing in the road she was not making a disturbance; she was swearing to herself; I heard her say "Devils" once; that is all I heard her say—all these three people were staggering drunk; they could not stand straight, and were staggering; I had a good look at them, and took stock of them—I never saw anything that Mrs. Baker was carrying, yet I had a good look at her—I am quite sure no boys were there creating a disturbance; I must have seen them if they had been; I did not see them—I did not see the police driving the boys away—the two constables returned, and took Baker into custody—the three people were still on the crossing when the policemen came back—one of the police, I don't know which, told them if they did not go away he would lock them up—I heard that—they got hold of Baker, he tried to go away, and they all scrambled up the road—as they went up the road the two women attempted to rescue him—there was a struggle and scrimmage, and while it was going on Butler came out—Mrs. Baker was attempting to rescue her husband, and was swearing the whole time—Williams was attempting to rescue Baker—they were struggling up Lockington Road—Butler came out of his shop and went a little way down the Lockington Road, so that he could see the struggle, I don't know what he saw—the police struggled to get back to the high road, struggled the whole time—they did not struggle opposite Butler's shop, as they turned the corner, they went on the Rock side—they were struggling then, the women struggling—a regular scrimmage took place—the women were drunken and violent—it would be false if any one said Baker was going quietly between the two constables—they went along the high road towards the station, the two women struggling the whole way—Baker was extremely violent, violently struggling with the police—I did not see him fighting with them—I said before "Fighting with him; they went down the road a long way; I describe it as a regular

sort of scrimmage or struggle, I thought he was making a violent attempt to get away, in which the other two were taking part"—that is correct, I did not see him fight that I am aware of; I did not see him because I did not go down.

Re-examined. It was a struggle and scrimmage; it was not a fight—I never had anything to do with any of the policemen in this case before this case—I came because my husband suggested it to me—the suggestion about drinking with policemen is false—the fusee woman said "The devils to turn me out"—I suppose she meant the people in the Rock—the struggle took place down the Lookington Road; whether Butler saw it or not I don't know; I don't answer for anybody but myself.

By the COURT. Before the police actually took Baker into custody they did not strike or push him, they never touched him at all.

FLORENCE COLBRAN . I am the daughter of the last witness—I am employed at Messrs. Spiers and Pond's Restaurant at Victoria Station—on the night of 31st March I was with my mother near Butler's shop, in the Lookington Road—I saw an old lady selling fusees; she came from the Rock—she was swearing to two policemen who were there—she went on her way—after that I saw the two Bakers and Williams standing on the crossing of the Lookington Road—they swore at the policemen after the old woman had gone—they called the policemen b——monkey faces, and b——b—; they shouted it—the policemen said "Go away, or you will be locked up"—they did not go away, but continued using this language—the police went away; the three persons stood there still shouting out, using the same language—then the police turned and came back and told them to go away, and they kept on swearing at them, and the police said if they did not go away they would be locked up, and they took Baker into custody and took him off to the station—Mrs. Baker and Williams tried to rescue him, took hold of the policemen's coat tails and pulled their arms—I followed my mother to the station—I saw Williams standing outside the station, and she fell down behind me and mother; I did not see anybody touch her at the time she fell down—she was drunk, and the two other persons, as far as I could tell, were drunk.

Cross-examined. I saw no boys there creating a disturbance when I first came up, nothing of the sort—the three were standing abreast on the crossing—as the police passed them they would be able to see all three—I have no doubt they were all drunk; they behaved as drunken people—any one could have seen they were in one another's company—before the police interfered with Williams, and as they were passing, she was swearing and throwing herself about—the police could see that—they walked on; all the three persons together used the bad language, and continued to call after them, and then the police came back—both of the policemen took Baker—they went at once towards the station—all five went a little way down Lockington Road struggling—the women were struggling too to rescue Baker—they and Baker were staggering drunk—certainly no one could have made any mistake about it—I saw Butler come out; I only knew him by sight—I knew he kept the shop there—he came out and went a little way down the road, spoke to Baker and tried to persuade him to go away—he and the women were struggling then—the women had not hold of the constable's and Baker's coat tails then—the women were swearing at the police; they were not pushing,

only taking hold of the policemen's arms and coat tails when Butler was there—after they went a little way down the Lockington Road they came back towards the station all struggling—the struggling went on very badly as they passed the corner by the Rock; it was there Baker tried to get away, a good deal of struggling was going on then—they were struggling all the way to the station—Mrs. Baker and Williams were behaving in this drunken manner all the way—I was near enough to see if Mrs. Baker was carrying anything—she was carrying no bag or basket—I think I should have seen it if she had had it.

Re-examined. She had not that basket at the time I saw her struggling—we followed behind—I should think Butler came out at 20 minutes or a quarter to 12—that was before the policeman asked them to go away the second time; Mr. Butler only came out once.

CHARLES JAMES CLENCH . I am a cheesemonger, and carry on business at 161, Battersea Park Road, within three doors of Mr. Butler—on the night of 31st March I remember the disturbance taking place in the road—I did not see the beginning of it—the first thing I saw was the crowd of about 100 or so persons going to the station—when I got to the station I saw the man and the constables—I saw Mrs. Baker inside the station yard—she called the policemen a b——y lot of curs, and shouted out "I will go wherever he goes"—Baker was then in custody being taken to the station—she was very excited—I saw her taken into the station—I saw Inspector Spencer on the station steps when they were taking Baker in.

Cross-examined. I knew Gallagher before this—he is not an acquaintance of mine—I was not near enough to see whether the woman was drunk—I am quite certain she was the person who used this language—I knew her before—there was a crowd of 100 persons, and I saw her inside the station gate, but not before that—I did not hear her use any bad language before she was inside the yard—there were two or three persons inside the station yard—there was only one woman there.

Re-examined. I did not see the beginning of this, all I saw was the crowd following to the station—the station yard has ordinary iron railings—the station is really a private house that has been turned into a station; there is a garden in front separated from the street by iron railings through which you can see—I could hear a voice say "You b——y pack of curs I will go where he goes"—no other woman but Mrs. Baker was in the station yard—although I know Gallagher as a nodding acquaintance I have spoken the truth—he is on duty in this district and passes my shop.

GEORGE BOXALL . I am potman at the Pavilion public-house, Battersea Park Road—we take in the special edition of the Evening Standard, and after we have done with it, just before we close, I take it to the station as a friendly act by the direction of my master, for the police to read—on 31st March I went to the station about ten minutes past 12, and into the charge room, which is on the right of the small hall as you go in, to leave the paper—I saw Mr. and Mrs. Baker in the dock—Gallagher was there—Mrs. Baker said to him "I will slap your face you white-livered cur;" and then she said "I will swing for the white-livered cur"—her husband told her to shut up—she was leaning against the dock—I should think she was drunk by the look of her—I did not think she was sober—I saw Baker leaning over the dock with his hat on talking to the Inspector—I only knew Hester as a constable at the station—when Baker and his wife

were in the dock Hester was standing in the passage behind me—he was not in the charge room at all.

Cross-examined. Hester was wearing a jersey—I go to the station nightly to take the paper, not to deliver beer; I take beer when it is ordered and paid for—they have beer from us—I was in the station six or seven minutes, I suppose, in the night room and charge room—I was by the door in the passage looking in—I say Baker was drunk, because he was leaning over the dock with his hat on the back of his neck, I don't say he was so drunk that he could not have stood but he was leaning over the dock—he was drunk, that is my opinion—Mrs. Baker was exactly the same as Mr. Baker; she was leaning and she was very saucy to Mr. Gallagher; those were the only reasons why I say she was drunk.

Re-examined. Baker was leaning right over doubled up—from the man's general appearance coupled with his attitude, I came to the conclusion he was drunk—the police spend about 4d. a night in our house, perhaps that, I don't know; we don't look on them as very profitable customers—I do not often hear sober women use such language as that she used—I should not think a lady if sober would use such language.

WILLIAM HESTER (Policeman 431 M). On 31st March I was 156 W—on that evening I was gazetted in the orders for change, and was transferred from the one division to the other—on the evening of the 31st March I was on duty—when Baker was brought in I had been off duty an hour and a half—I was wearing a jersey—I was standing at the top of the stairs leading to the men's kitchen just about to go to bed, when Baker was brought into the charge-room I was at the charge-room door—I did not enter the charge-room, it is not true that I struck Baker, I had no provocation to strike him—I had never seen him before, he was a total stranger—it is not true that I struck him on the top of the head—the last time I was examined I produced a ring, I am wearing it now, on my left-hand, I always wear it on that hand for the last four or five years, it is a round silver ring, there is no stone in it, it is not a signet ring—I have never worn a signet ring, or a ring with a stone in it—it is not true that I have exchanged or given away a signet ring with a stone in it—I was four and a half years in the Hull police before I came here, I came up to the Metropolitan Police.

Cross-examined. Baker offered me no provocation and I offered him none, I merely stood there as he was brought in—nothing at all passed between us—I was in plain clothes—there was nothing about me by which a person would notice that I was a policeman—I had nothing in my hands, no keys; I have some keys—the key of my bedroom door was not locked—I should say that Baker was drunk, if I had seen him in the street disorderly I should have taken him into custody for being drunk, if he was disorderly, I would not have interfered with him if he was not—he was so drunk that I would have charged him with being drunk—he appeared to be very unsteady in the dock, rolling about—I thought he was drunk from his general manner, from the way he was acting in the dock—I don't think anyone could make a mistake as to his state—he did not appear to stand steady in the dock—I should say that Mrs. Baker was drunk, she had a great deal to say, she was talking all the time, and was very thick in her speech, she lisped as it were when she spoke—I could hardly understand what she said—I did not

take much notice of what she did say, she appeared to be talking all the time—I did not hear her say to the inspector "Look at that man" (Gallagher)—there were three or four between us—it is a room about 15 feet square—I should have locked her up if I had seen her in the street, if she had been disorderly—I saw Boxall in the charge room and four or five constables.

Re-examined. Drunkenness in itself is not as a rule sufficient to warrant a constable in arresting a person, they must be either drunk and incapable or drunk and disorderly; if I had seen Baker drunk and disorderly I would have taken him; I only speak of my own opinion, in my opinion, these two persons were the worse for drink—the dock is about 2 feet 8 inches in height, and 3 feet by 21/2 in width.

By the JURY. There is a mark on my right hand, that is from a cut (The witness showed the mark to the Jury, who, after examining it, said it was clearly a scar.)

The COURT. Baker says "Hester, a policeman, struck me on my head with his hand as I entered the charge-room; my hat fell off, and then I was struck three or four blows with his fist"—Is that true? A. No, there is not a word of truth in it, I never touched him at all, that I can say positively. JOHN DALLOW (Policeman W 209). I was off duty on the night of 31st March—I saw Mrs. Baker in the station garden, the gate leading into the garden was closed—I saw Mrs. Baker inside the garden, at the bottom of the steps—I assisted to bring her up the steps—I saw her placed in the charge-room—I saw Hester standing by the top of the stairs leading down to the kitchen—he was there at the time I brought Mrs. Baker in—I did not see Baker placed in the dock, he was in the dock at the time I brought Mrs. Baker in—there is no truth in the suggestion that two constables pinned Baker's arms by his side while Hester struck him three or four blows on the top of his head—I heard Mrs. Baker say to the inspector, when she was brought in, "Do you see that, inspector?"—I saw Gallagher there at the time—I heard Mrs. Baker call Gallagher a white-livered b, she would like to swing for him, she would like to smack his face—I believe Boxall was standing in the passage at the time—Baker was drunk.

Cross-examined. I did not go down the steps to assist Gallagher, I assisted him after coming into the gate—Baker had then been taken in—when I got in he was in the dock, I did not see him taken in; I heard what Mrs. Baker said quite plainly, I had no difficulty in hearing what she said, she spoke distinctly—I did not hear Baker say to the inspector "Do you think I am drunk, inspector? "Ideny that he said it—I say Mrs. Baker was drunk, because she was staggering, and she smelt strongly of drink; I was close by her, I had her by the arm; I could not say that I was the closest to her; Gallagher had her by one arm and I the other—I could smell the drink quite plain—I won't say she was beastly drunk—I say Baker was drunk, by his hanging over the dock; he had his hat on at the back of his head—he had it on all the time he was in the dock, he was holding on by the dock; there is not much room to stagger in the dock; he was standing unsteadily, leaning over the dock; he threw himself about every now and then, pitching against his wife.

Re-examined. He was holding on by the dock rails in front, and

holding first one side and then the other—when I first came into the station I saw Hester standing at the top of the kitchen stairs—I did not see him in the charge room—when Mrs. Baker said "Do you see that, inspector?" 1 saw Gallagher—there is no truth in saying that he was making indecent gestures to her—I make reports to the inspector, and he reports to the Commissioner.

By the COURT. Mrs. Baker was quiet; two of us had to take her in—when she said "Do you see that, inspector?" she looked at Gallagher and nodded at him—I did not see that he did anything—I was standing close to him.

JOSEPH SPENCER (Police Inspector W). I have been in the Metropolitan Police 23 years and 9 months, beginning as a constable and rising up to my present grade—on the night of 31st March I was in charge of the Battersea Park Station—the two inspectors superior to me visit that station during the day, in addition to the superintendent—I should make a report to them if anything particular happened—on the night of 31st March my attention was directed to a disturbance in the street outside—I went out to see what it was, and down to the bottom of the steps—I saw the constables with Baker in custody—there were from 60 to 100 people I should say outside—it is a very rough neighbourhood, especially on Saturday night—I believe the constables had difficulty in bringing Baker up—no one was assisting the police as far as I could see—I went to assist them in bringing Baker into the charge room—he was placed in the charge room; I asked the nature of the charge, and Lodes told me that on passing the Rock he noticed an old woman outside with several people round her, that she appeared the worse for drink, and was making use of bad language; that they cleared some boys away, and requested the boys to move off, and that on doing so Baker came towards them from the opposite side of the street, made use of bad language, and asked them if they wanted a charge, and called them very bad names, b——monkeys, and b——bastards, that the prisoner told them to go away, and that they did not want to have anything to say to him; that he continued his abusive language; that they walked on to the extent of the ground they had to patrol (they have a limited beat on Saturday nights), that they then turned back and found Baker still making use of very bad language; that they requested him to move away; that he refused, and told them it would take a lot of such b——as them, and still proceeded with his bad language; that finding they could not get him away, and seeing that he was drunk, Lodes took hold of him and took him into custody, and that Russell went to his assistance—that was what was told me in Baker's hearing in the charge room—Baker made no statement in answer to that—a minute or two after Baker was placed in the dock Mrs. Baker was brought in—she called the police b white-livered s—ds, and made use of very bad language indeed, if anything, worse than Baker, in the charge room—in my opinion they were both drunk—when the men were coming through the station in the passage with Baker, Hester was standing just at the top of the staircase leading to the men's kitchen—I helped to bring Baker into the charge room—Hester did not hit Baker with his fist, he was not within three yards of him—that is absolute invention—Baker did not say to me "Do you think I am drunk, inspector?"—I did not say "Every person is drunk who is brought here"—I did

not say "If you don't keep quiet I will lock you in the cell, and take the charge in your absence"—I could not take the charge in his absence—it is nothing unusual for drunken men to give their names and addresses, or sign the bail sheet; those who can write invariably do so—I took Baker to the cell at the end of the passage—the woman was placed in the cell nearest the office by Gallagher—outside the cell there is a strong gaslight; inside the cell is an electric bell, and the prisoner who desires to communicate with the inspector presses the bell, and in front of my desk a bell rings and a red disc comes—the prisoners were locked in the cells; after Baker had been in some time he asked for bail—I sent Gallagher to Mrs. Williams—when Mrs. Baker said "Do you see that, inspector? "Ilooked up several times—I did not see Gallagher make any indecent motions to her—Gallagher has been 14 years in the force, not with me, in another division—Mr. Butler came in a minute or so before Mrs. Williams—I had a conversation with Butler—then I sent Gallagher to the cells to bring out Baker and his wife—when he came up to be bailed I noticed a small portion of blood on Baker's forehead—I said "You have some blood on your forehead; how do you account for it?"—he said "That was caused by a policeman in a jersey, who struck me"—I said "That is not so; I helped to bring you in myself, and you had no signs of blood on your forehead when I put you in the cell"—he said "It did not begin to bleed till afterwards"—he did not ask me to send for a doctor—just on leaving he said "I will go and see Dr. O'Neill next door, and see whether I am drunk or sober"—Gallagher was present when the conversation took place about there being no blood when he was put in the cell—Gallagher said the prisoner fell down in the cell, and he had no doubt that was how it was caused—he said in Baker's presence, "The injury was caused by his blundering up against the cell door."

Cross-examined. When I was assisting Lodes and the prisoner to bring Baker into the police-station Hester was present in a jersey at the end of the passage by the door; he took no part in the matter at all—he did nothing that could provoke Baker, or provoke any ill-feeling at all against him; he did not assist at all—I swear Baker did not say to me "Do you say I am drunk"—when Mrs. Baker complained to me I said "What is it you want?"—she told me he was making faces at her and laughing—I looked several times, but I could see nothing of it—I looked each time she applied to me—then I asked her what she meant—my memory is clear as to what occurred when the prisoners were brought from the cells after Butler and Mrs. Williams came—to the best of my recollection there was a minute or two interval between them when they were brought in from the cell—to the best of my belief the woman came in first, and the man followed a minute or two afterwards; I cannot say positively—Gallagher brought them—I don't think Gallagher came in with the female; she walked in, and I think he walked back, and unlocked the cell—I did not suggest that the man might have fallen down when I saw the injury on his forehead—I did not say before Gallagher mentioned it "Why, you must have had a fall; "I said nothing of the kind—I swear Gallagher gave an explanation of how the injury was caused that night in the Bakers' presence—Butler was in the charge room when they were brought in; I cannot say whether he remained till they were discharged or went outside; he might have remained in—the prisoner stated the

charge—after saying that Baker continued his violent language and seeing he was drunk they took him into custody, the prisoner said they were set on by Mrs. Baker, who followed and attempted to rescue—I am positive they spoke about clearing boys away—when they were in the dock Mrs. Baker used very bad language; I recollect some of the words; I heard distinctly what she said—I say she was drunk from her general appearance, from her way of speaking, and the very violent language she used, and before she was in the dock she was very unsteady in her gait—I noticed nothing beyond her violent language when she was in the dock—Baker was drunk also from his general manner in the dock; he smelt very strongly of drink; I said that last time; if not then I did at Bow Street—to the best of my recollection I said it here—Baker was staggering inside the dock—she was not steady in the dock—I saw the basket with a tin of salmon inside taken from her—they were brought in from the cells, and discharged after an interval of 50 minutes—the man had considerably recovered then; he was not sober on leaving; he appeared drunk then, but not so drunk as when he was brought in—Mrs. Baker was still under the influence of drink strongly—she was not sober, but had partially recovered; I should say she was drunk—both were still drunk; that is what I said before—I did not notice her breath; I was not sufficiently near to say she smelt of drink.

Re-examined. I have mentioned about Baker's breath before, whether the clerk took it down on the notes or not—the cells are about 5 yards from the charge-room door, as near as I could say—to the best of my recollection Gallagher brought the woman, left her at the charge-room door, and went back 5 yards to where Baker was—at the very most that would not have lasted over a minute—I believe the woman was first to the best of my recollection—last time Mr. Poland put to me they were staggering and reeling drunk, and I said yes—they were not sober when they left—I have seen people worse drunk able to give their names and an account of themselves, and sign; in fact, some can write better when drunk—I noticed a small abrasion and a small portion of blood on Baker's forehead when he was released, no lump.

By the JURY Nothing was said about the prisoner having struck the girl's face; it was never mentioned when the charge was taken or when they were bailed; I never heard about it till the charge was taken before the Magistrate on Monday—I am thoroughly acquainted with the cell—the cell door is 6 ft. 6 in. high—the lock would be about in the middle of the door.

By MR. GEOGHEGAN. A seat runs round the cell; it is like a plank bed, very wide, so that a person could sit on it; part of it fronts the cell door—the light is over the door looking in, so that if a person wanted more light he would sit on the seat opposite the door—it is about 3 yards from the door to the seat, I should say—almost opposite the place where the person would be sitting is the door with the lock on it—the lock is a stock lock, and projects quite an inch and a quarter—the door opens outwards

HENRY LODES (Policeman 574 W). On this night I was on reserve duty outside Battersea Park Road Station in company with the prisoner—I paraded up and down outside the station on Saturday night within a limit beyond which I might not go—our attention was called to a disturbance at the Rock; I did not see the old fusee woman, I was walking in front of the prisoner and heard him speak to someone, and I turned and

heard Baker say "I should think you b y monkeys want a charge"—I told him to go away, and told him we did not want anything to do with him, and he said he would not go away for such b—y monkeys, and it would want two such men as we; that we were nothing but black men's bastards—we tried to persuade him to go away; we walked a few yards from him and thought he would leave off—he did not, but kept on his bad language—I turned round, Mr. Butler came up and asked him to go away and not make a bother—he said he should not go away for any such b——as we were and that he should not be talked to by such b——things as we were—on that I tried to persuade him to go away, as we did not want to be obliged to take him into custody—it is a roughish neighbourhood, and it does not take much to create a disturbance—there were 200 or 300 people, I should think, gathered round—he went very violently to the station—I called No. 200 to my assistance—at the time I was holding Baker his wife came up and said we had got her husband, and we b—y well should not take him to the station she pulled our coats a good deal and hung on and said we should not take her husband—we got him to the station—Mrs. Baker was brought in a minute or two after we got in with Baker—the inspector came down the station steps and helped us up the station steps with Baker—about half-way to the station I saw Williams in the road—she said we had got her uncle, and we b—s should not b—y well take him to the station—Gallagher, I think, took Mrs. Baker into the station yard as I was just in at the station—she was very violent too, she said we had b y well got her husband there and should not take him in, no such b as we were—the prisoner met Gallagher about 5 or 6 yards from the station—I went up to the charge-room with Baker and charged him with being drunk and disorderly—he was very drunk—Mrs. Baker was charged with attempting to rescue and being drunk too—she was very violent in the dock—she used very bad language in the dock, and got out of the dock once—in my opinion they were both drunk—when the prisoner and I brought Baker into the charge-room, Hester was standing on the top of stairs leading to the single men's kitchen—I was there the whole time till the man was taken to the cells—I did not see Hester interfere in anyway with Baker, or strike him on the head—it is not true that we pinned Baker's arms while Hester struck him on the top of the head—it is absolutely untrue.

Cross-examined. I and the prisoner gave our evidence before Mr. Montagu Williams—I did not say a word there about the woman selling fusees because I did not see her—I was there when the prisoner gave his evidence; I cannot say if he mentioned a word about the woman selling fusees—after we first took Baker we went some few yards down Lockington Road—it was there Butler came and spoke to Baker who was then using very bad language, and violent—he was not struggling then—he was violent as he went past the Rock to get into the High Road again, he was not going quietly—I have no doubt about Baker being drunk, he was staggering drunk—Mrs. Baker was drunk, she could not walk straight, she was reeling about—I heard Baker when in the dock say to the inspector "Do you think I am drunk?"—the inspector said "Of course you are," he did not say "All are drunk who are brought in here," or words like that—when Baker tried to speak again, the inspector told him to be quiet—he is often obliged to say that—Baker

misbehaved himself greatly in the dock—he used bad language and could not stand upright in the dock—the first time I saw Williams was when we were half-way to the police-station.

Re-examined. It is not true that the prisoner turned round and slapped her face when I was there, there is not a word of truth in it—I did not see the fusee woman, I heard the prisoner speaking to some one, and then I heard Baker speaking to the prisoner, and I turned round—I was not represented by counsel before Mr. Montagu Williams—all I was asked was my opinion as to whether the man was drunk or sober.

PATRICK GALLAGHER (Policeman W 496). I have been twelve and a half years in the force—on this night I was on duty outside Battersea Park Road Station—about two or three minutes to 12 I saw a crowd coming towards the station, and I saw Baker in the custody of Lodes and the prisoner—Mrs. Baker came up behind her husband, caught hold of him by his coat collar, and said "You shall not take him unless you take me"—the prisoner pushed her off; she then caught hold of the prisoner by the arm and said "You b—, you shall not take him unless you take me"—the prisoner on that caught hold of her—as far as I could see she was obstructing the police—there was a great crowd of people after them—no person assisted the constables, just the reverse—I went to their assistance and took hold of Mrs. Baker after the prisoner had taken hold of her; he handed her over to me—she struggled—we put her inside the station gate which leads from the road into the garden—there are railings there, and persons outside can see what takes place in the garden—when we got her inside I shut the gate and then let go of her—afterwards I took hold of her and brought her into the station assisted by Dallow—when I got her into the station Baker was then in the dock—he said to his wife "You must have been a fool, you might have gone home and got me bail"—when she was placed in the dock she said "You white-livered b, I should like to swing for you"—while the charge was being taken she said "Have you seen," or, "Did you see that, inspector?"—I had not made any indecent gestures to her—I was in the presence of my superior officer and liable to be reported for misconduct by him—when the charge was being taken not a word was said about Williams's face being slapped—when I came in with Mrs. Baker, Hester was standing close to the stairs leading to the kitchen—when she was placed in the dock he came to the charge-room door and had a look through—he never came inside the charge-room—no complaint was made by Baker to the inspector of his being struck in the station, when he was charged—when Baker was being taken to the station the inspector came down the steps—I could not see if he caught hold of the prisoner, but he walked up behind him—I was sent for bail, which came a little before 1—there is a kind of wicket made of perforated iron in the cell door—I was on reserve duty that night, and went the rounds—drunk and disorderly persons frequently attempt suicide—we use discretion how often we go round and look at them when they are locked up—I went to Mrs. Baker's cell and looked through the wicket, and asked her if she was all right—she said "I am all right," in a very abrupt manner—I went to her husband's cell, and asked him if he was all right—he said "Yes, I am all right"—I then went for bail and came back, and then went to her cell first, and unlocked the door—I did not pass by Baker's cell to do that; his cell was at the end of the passage; he was No. 2 and the

woman No. 1—I told her bail had come, and gave her time to put her dress right, and then I passed to No. 2 cell, and told Baker bail had arrived—he was then sitting on the bench partly asleep and partly drunk—he gets up and staggers forward towards the cell door; his knees seem to give way, and he falls back as if in a fit—in my opinion he came against the door—when I saw him fall forward the wicket was open, but the door was shut and locked—I looked through the wicket—I then went and took Mrs. Baker to the office, which is on the same floor, only five yards from the cell, and then went back for her husband—I opened the door of his cell, and saw him standing with his head over the closet pan, stooping over the pan, and his head was bleeding—I asked him what was the matter—he cocked his head up and said "This has been done by some of Sir Charles Warren's by pups; I shall make them suffer for it; I don't blame you for it; it was a man in plain clothes did it"—I took him up to the charge-room, and then he was bailed out—he was sadly drunk, and Mrs. Baker was drunk, too, no doubt about it.

Cross-examined. When I first saw the Bakers I formed the opinion that they were drunk, because he was staggering, and his head was down, and she was staggering, and her language was not very parliamentary—I have heard sober people use strong language sometimes—I was in the charge-room when the charge was taken—I did not hear Baker say to the inspector "Inspector, do you think I am drunk?"—I will not swear that did not happen; I did not hear it—I did not say to Mrs. Baker when she was in the cell "Tottie, I should like to spend half an hour with you"—when I went to release the prisoners Baker got up and staggered towards the door—I came to the conclusion his head touched the look; I am positive that his head hit the door—I saw him in the charge-room before he was released—I noticed a bump on his forehead; I am positive as to that—blood was streaming from it—I saw a bump; some people might call it a bruise perhaps—I told the inspector in the charge-room before they were released how it happened, so that Mr. and Mrs. Baker and Butler, who was there, could hear; some people don't hear—in my opinion the Bakers were still suffering from the effects of drink before they left—they could not be sober; they were walking straight—I could not say if they went immediately to Dr. O'Neill's

By the COURT. Of course after 50 minutes Baker was a bit better

STEPHEN LUCAS (Superintendent W). I am acquainted with the characters of all the men in this division—there has never been a black report against any constable in this case—Spencer came as an inspector to me four years ago; he has borne an excellent character since then


The RECORDER said he entirely concurred in the verdict, and that Russell left the dock quite free from reproach.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-701
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

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701. WILLIAM HESTER, Unlawfully wounding George Baker. Second Count, Assault, occasioning actual bodily harm

MR. MEAD, for the prosecution, said that as this was one of the issues before the Jury in the previous case, he deferred to their verdict, and desired to offer no evidence.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-702
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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702. HENRY SALT (52) , Stealing a harmonium the property of Louisa Blackman

MR.BODKIN prosecuted

THOMAS BLACKMAN . I am manager to my aunt, Louisa Blackman, a Pianoforte manufacturer, of 71, Brixton Road—the prisoner came there in January, and said he knew our old firm in Blackford Road seven years ago, and had bought instruments of us—he required a harmonium, and said he was a master builder, and had lived at 24, Dalziel Road, Stockwell, 12 months—I supplied him with a harmonium for which he was to pay 7s. a month—he signed this agreement "Henry George Hall"—he paid one instalment in advance that day—I applied for the Subsequent instalments, and found he had gone—when I took the Instrument there was furniture, but when I applied for the money every thing was gone—about six or seven weeks after the instrument had been sent I saw the prisoner in Denmark Street; Mr. Jones was with me—I said "I have come about our instrument"—he said he did not know where it had gone; his wife did, but she was away—I asked for Mr. Hall, but "Salt, builder," was on the door—he asked to get his coat, and we saw no more of him—after he had gone I saw his wife, though he had said that she was in the country.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. I saw your wife, who told me you were about to remove—I asked her to let me know when, and you came, and said that you were going at 6 o'clock next morning—I did not come with a van at 6 next morning—I never saw you—a man was moving furniture out of the house, and I walked upstairs—you did not tell me that you got the harmonium for a lodger—I never got it back, or anything but the 7s

JOHN HENRY BLEWETT . I am a builder, of West Dulwich, and agent for letting 24, Dalziel Road, Stockwell, which I let to the prisoner on 16th July for 26l. a year; this is the agreement—he signed it, "Henry Hall," in my presence—I received this letter on 25th March. (This stated that he was sorry he had had to leave the house in the way he had done, but his wife would not remain any longer. Signed, H.G. HALL. I went to the house, and found it shut up—the key accompanied the letter—he owed two quarters' rent—I traced him to Denmark Street, Camberwell, but have not spoken to him.

JOHN JONES . I am in the pianoforte trade at 40, Gibson Buildings, Stoke Newington—I was with Mr. Blackman when he asked the prisoner What he had done with his harmonium—he said his wife knew where it Was; he did not, and she was in the country—I was his wife half an hour afterwards.

WILLIAM VALENTINE RYDE . I am in the employ of Grove and Co., and have the letting of 39, Denmark Street, which I let to the defendant about the end of February in the name of Henry Salt—this agreement was drawn up—he gave me two references—one was to Mr.G. Hall, 24, Dalziel road, Stockwell, his landlord—I wrote to both references, and received these replies (produced.)

GEORGE EDWARDS (Detective Sergeant). On 26th March went to 39, Denmark Street, Camberwell—"H. Salt and Co., house decorators," was on the window—the prisoner opened the door, and I said "Mr. Salt"—he said "He is out"—I said "Who are you?"—he said "Mr. Salt is out"—I stepped into the passage and said "Your name is Hall"—he said "No, it is not "Isaid "You were living at 24, Dalziel

Street, Stockwell"—he said "Yes, I was"—I said "You were living therein the name of Hall"—he said "That is right"—I said "I am a police-officer; I am going to arrest you on a warrant for obtaining an organ from Mr. Blackman, of Brixton Road"—he said "It is quite right"—I said "Then you are the man; I shall take you in custody"—he said "I done Mr. Blackman a good turn; I got a piano back for him"—I took him in custody—he said "Let me go and leave a note for my wife, who is out"—he slipped along the passage to the kitchen, but I pushed the door against him, and took him to the station, where he gave his name. Henry Salt, 39, Denmark Street, Camberwell, carpenter—I said "You had better give your right name; the warrant is in the name of Hall"—he said "Salt is my right name"—I told him he was accused of receiving an organ from Mr. Blackman, and he admitted it.

Cross-examined. On the way to the station I said "What was your object in denying that your name is Salt?"—he said "I did not wish any bother at the house."

GUILTY . — Six Months' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-703
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

703. HENRY EBSWORTH (44), ALEXANDER DONALDSON (34), and GEORGE EDWARD GRIFFIN (48) , Unlawfully obtaining divers sums of money by false pretences. Other Counts, for conspiracy

MR. POLAND and MR. CHARLES MATHEWS Prosecuted; MR. LYNN appeared for Ebsworth, and MR. GEOGHEGAN for Donaldson.

HENRY KILLICK . I am assistant to Catharine Groves and others, of 37, and 41, Lower Marsh, Lambeth—I had served Donaldson once or twice before, and on 4th February he came and bought goods, value between 15s. and 1l., and tendered this cheque (Drawn on the Birkbeck Bank for 5l. 10s. by Henry Ebsworth)—I took it to the manager and brought him the change—he endorsed it in my presence—it was paid into our bank, and returned on February 7th, marked "Refer to drawer;" it was represented and returned again on February 20th.

HENRY CLEMOW . I am counting-house manager to Mrs. Groves-Donaldson came there in January and asked me to cash a cheque; I refused, as I did not know him—he brought it again, and as it was drawn by a neighbour, whom I knew, I cashed it, and it was honoured—on 4th February he came again and Killick brought me this cheque, and as the previous cheque had been paid I agreed to cash it—it was paid into our bank and returned dishonoured, and re-presented and again returned—between the first and second presentment I wrote this letter to Donaldson. (Dated February, stating that the cheque had been returned.) I received this answer on the 8th. (From Mrs. Donaldson, stating that her husband was away, but would return on Friday or Saturday.)

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Donaldson put his name on the first cheque, and I believe his address, or I should not have cashed it—I knew the man who drew it.

HENRY SMITH . I am a baker, of 137, Clapham Park Road—Ebsworth was a customer of mine—on 21st February he owed me 7s. 9 1/2 d., and brought this cheque, on the Birkbeck Bank, "21st February, pay Mr. Smith or bearer 3l. Henry Ebsworth"—I gave him the balance, 2l. 12s. 2 1/2 d., believing it to be a valuable document—I had an account at the Birkbeck Bank and sent it there; it was returned next day,

marked "N.S."—I then went to Ebsworth's house, but could not find him.

Cross-examined by MR. LYNN. I think Ebsworth commeneed dealing with me in December—I had had other cheques from him which were honoured.

GEORGE HENRY SALMON . I used to keep the Cock Tavern; I now live at The Avenue, Brixton Hill—on 5th March Ebsworth came to the Cock with a Mr. Cook, and asked me to cash this cheque. (Dated March 5th, drawn by Donaldson in favour of Ebsworth for 8l. on the London and South Western Bank, and endorsed by Ebsworth.) He said that he took it for a quarter's rent from one of his tenants, Mr. Donaldson—I asked him if it was all right; he said it was as safe as the Bank of England, and he had lived in one of his houses at Brixton 18 months, and he asked Mr. Cook if he could find him a customer for two houses which he had to sell—Ebsworth endorsed the cheque in my presence, and I gave him eight sovereigns, believing it was genuine—I paid it into the London and County Bank, and it was returned, marked "N.S."—I knew Ebsworth's address, 59, Solon New Road; I could not find him there, and wrote him a letter, which was not answered or returned—I communicated with the police, and a warrant was issued.

Cross-examined by MR. LYNN. Ebsworth was introduced to me by Cook

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I had known Cook some time as a customer—he introduced Ebsworth as a respectable man—I did not write to Donaldson

THOMAS BARLOW . I am a builder, of 129, Gloucester Road, Regent's Park—just before Christmas, 1887, the prisoner Griffin employed me to do some work at the Arlington Club, Rathbone Place, which took me about two months in this year, and two weeks last year—my bill was 31l. 9s. 11d.—I have not been paid, but in the course of the work some small sums were paid on account—I applied for the money nearly every day—on 15th February Griffin came to my house with Ebsworth; they asked me to cash a cheque, without producing it—I do not think they mentioned the amount—I said that I could not—Ebsworth said that it was as safe as the Bank of England—Griffin heard that—on the Saturday afternoon, the 18th, Griffin came and produced this cheque, and asked me to get it cashed for him—I did not want to do it, I was afraid of it—he said that I should have 2l. 5s. out of it, in reduction of my bill, for cashing the cheque—I consented. (Dated Feb. 14. Drawn by Ebsworth on the Birkbeck Bank for 5l. 15s., in favour of T. Barlow or order, and endorsed T. Barlow.) I sent it to Mr. Ford, my messenger brought back the money; I retained 2l. 5s.and handed the 3l. 10s. to Griffin—Mr. Ford called on me and returned the cheque—I then went and saw Griffin, and told him the cheque had been returned, and after all he said about Mr. Ebsworth I thought it was disgraceful—he assured me that it would be paid, but that Mr. Ebsworth was out of town—Ebsworth afterwards came to where I was working, and I told him the cheque was returned—he was surprised, and said he did not know what I meant, and that Mr. Griffin had told him the cheque had been destroyed—I said "Well, we had better go down and see Mr. Griffin about it"—we went to the Arlington Club, and he said to Griffin "You assured me that this cheque had been

destroyed, what did you want to tell me a lie for?"—Griffin replied "Simply because it suited my purpose"—Donaldson went with us, but I don't think he heard the conversation—I used to see Griffin every day; he represented Donaldson as a man of means, a shipping agent, who assisted him in carrying out his venture in his club—about 14th March I saw Donaldson and Griffin together at the club—I had called not for the first time, to get some money—Donaldson heard me speaking to Griffin; Griffin had no money, and I wanted some very badly, and Donaldson, who had a cheque in his pocket, wrote me this one at the Wheat Sheaf opposite for 3l. 10s. (This was on the London Trading Bank.) I cashed it through a friend, Mr. Williams, of the Blue Posts, Fitzroy Square, and it was returned on 28th March, marked "N. S."—I have had to pay Mr. Williams the amount—on 16th March a man named Trotman brought me this cheque, and asked me to get it cashed, but I sent it back, and would not have anything to do with it. (Dated llth March. Pay G. E. Griffin, 4l. 17s. Alex Donaldson, on the London Trading Bank.)Griffin said that he had got a ball at the club, and had not got the means of getting in goods to supply the people, and he wanted it very badly—I cashed it, and gave him 3l., stopping 1l. 17s. off the account—I believed it was a good cheque; they assured me that it was all right.

Cross-examined by MR. LYNN. I had not known Ebsworth before the interview with Griffin—I won't fix the date.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Griffin owed me money, and I was anxious to pay my rates, as I was afraid they would come into possession—Donaldson got no money from me for it; it was simply to oblige Griffin.

Cross-examined by Griffin. I did some work for you by contract—I thought Ebsworth was Donaldson's landlord—when I told you the cheque had come back you told me you would see that the money was found in the course of a day or two—I was sued by Ford—I was obliged to keep friendly with you; I knew it was the only way to get the money —you gave me a bill, and asked me to get it discounted, and I have got it now—I do not know the date when I had the brokers in; I was in great trouble—I had been waiting night and day for you, trying to get your money, right through January; we were nearly starving; you owe me nearly 30l. now—I was told that Mr. Donaldson banked at the Bank of England, and therefore supposed he was worth money—you did not give me the cheque; you sent Trotman with it in the evening—I am not able to pay Mr. Ford the 5l. 15s.—I paid Mr. Morris's part—I have been doing work for him, and he stopped it out of the account.

Re-examined. Griffin told me he would see that the 5l. 15s. cheque was paid—Mr. Ford made a claim on me for the money he advanced—Griffin offered a bill which I was unable to get discounted—Donaldson said that Ebsworth was a man of property and his landlord, and banked at the Bank of England, and he might want some work done.

SARAH ANN FORD . I am the wife of Henry Ford, of 82, Asserbury Street, East Road—a customer named Butcher gave me this cheque for 5l. 15s.; I cashed it, and paid it into my husband's bank, more than once, and it was returned marked "N. S."—after the warrant had been issued, Griffin called to see Mr. Ford—I said "He is not at home; have

you called in reference to the cheque?"—he said "Yes," and that the money would be paid—it has not been paid.

HENRY FORD . I have heard my wife's evidence—when Griffin called he asked me if I had the money, I said no—he promised to pay me in a week, he has not done so.

Cross-examined by Griffin. Mr. Barlow said "I will take you to the party I had the cheque from," and he brought me to you. You asked me to accept a bill but no interest, you said that if I let it go another week you would see I was paid.

WALTER WILLIAMS . I keep the Blue Posts, Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square—I cashed a cheque for 3l. 10s. for Mr. Barlow, I passed it through my bank and it was returned dishonoured—on 16th March I cashed a cheque for him for 4l. 16s., it was sent through my bankers and returned dishonoured—I did not know of the dishonour of the first cheque when he came with the second—I met Griffin in March and said "What do you know of Donaldson who drew these cheques?"—he said "Very little, I saw him last night, he came in a cab and was going to the theatre, I spoke to him about the cheque, and said 'Come and see me on Thursday'"—he never came and never paid.

Cross-examined by Griffin. You said you did not know much of Donaldson, but would arrange to pay me—you were not then aware that the cheque was dishonoured, my lawyers sued you on it.

Re-examined. The answer I got through my solicitors was that there were no effects.

JOHN MILLS BUER . Griffin was a tenant of mine—he agreed to pay his rent quarterly, but in February this year he owed me more than 100l., and gave me a cheque for 11l. 6s. 8d. drawn by Donaldson, it was post-dated a fortnight—I paid it in and it was returned—I sent notice to Griffin that it was not paid, and he asked me to keep it a few days longer, I paid it in again, it was returned marked "Not provided for," and afterwards it was marked "Account closed."

Cross-examined by Griffin. I sent you the cheque back. You arranged to pay me 2l. a week for your arrears of rent—I sent you a note by a police sergeant about Donaldson's cheque, I Went to see you at Rathbone Place, and told you I had another cheque of Donaldson's—you said "Would it not be well for me to go and see Mr. Williamson?" I advised you not to go—there was quite sufficient furniture in your house to pay all you owe me.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. That cheque has not been provided for, I have received 2l. for it—I am quite content to receive it by instalments.

EDWARD RICHARD HALE . I am manager of the Vauxhall Branch of the London and South-Western Bank—Donaldson opened an account there on December 6th by paying in 11l.—the account was closed on 7th March by the balance of 1l. being withdrawn under the signature "A. Donaldson"—this is the receipt—between 6th December and 7th March 45l. 10s. was paid in, and the amount of returned cheques is 59l. and an acceptance for 27l.—five cheques were presented a second time—on the returned cheques I find the names of Ebsworth and Griffin—on January 23rd a oheque to Ebsworth for 5l. 10s. was returned and another for 5l. 10s. on February 7th, and on 23rd February one to Griffin was

marked "Not provided for"—that was re-presented on 7th April, and marked "Account closed"—this (produced) is the document sent me by Donaldson on 6th March closing the account.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. The balance on 6th March was 1l. 6s. 11d.; nothing was paid in subsequently—taking the cheques which were presented more than once, that would reduce the amount of unpaid cheques from 86l. to 59l.—the total of dishonoured cheques was 59l., and 47l. for an acceptance besides.

Cross-examined by Griffin. Two cheques were in your favour.

WIGHTMAN COOPER . I am manager of the London Trading Bank, 12, Coleman Street—I produce a certified copy of Donaldson's account; it was opened on March 9th by a payment of 15l.; that was the only sum paid in, and it was all drawn out by March 15th—on 26th March we sent him this letter: "We must request you will abstain from sending cheques which are not provided for, or we shall have to close the account"—four cheques, amounting to 15l. 10s., were presented and dishonoured—there was one to Griffin on 10th March for 2l.

Cross-examined by MR. LYNN. The account shows no cheque in Ebsworth's favour.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. The paid cheques were drawn to Griffin, Stewart, and the Vauxhall Waterworks Company—the unpaid cheques are dated March 17th, 26th, and 28th.

Cross-examined by Griffin. The cheque for 4l. 15s. in your favour was on March 26th—no money was taken out after March 16th, there was no balance—Mrs. Donaldson came to pay in about 7l., which was refused.

Re-examined. He came on 28th March—that was money for two specific cheques, and we refused to receive money on that score—it was in reference to a man named Churchyard.

FRANK LOMAS . I am a clerk at the Birkbeck Bank, Southampton Buildings—Ebsworth opened an account there on 10th December by a payment in of 36l., and by 23rd December 30l. had been drawn out—on 23rd December 110l. was paid in, and on 24th December 109l. was drawn out—on 11th January this year only 30s. was left—on that day a cheque for 2l. was presented, and refused because the balance was insufficient, and afterwards a cheque was cashed for 30l., leaving 1s. balance—after that 13 cheques were presented, some of them several times; they amounted to 67l.—a cheque of Ebsworth's, for 24l., dated 10th March, was presented, and marked "N.S."

Cross-examined by MR. LYNN. It was first presented on 9th April, a month after date.

WILLIAM WILLIAMSON (Police Sergeant). On 9th May I took Donaldson on a warrant at his house in Solon New Road—I found on him this cheque-book of the London Trading Bank—I charged him with this offence; he made no reply—I searched his house, and among other papers I found a notice from the London and South Western Bank, closing the account; also a notice from the London Trading Bank, telling him he must draw no more cheques; also a letter from Mr. Clemow, asking for 5l. 10s. owing on a cheque; a letter from Mr. Arthur Martin, asking for payment of 27l. 1s. 6d., due on an acceptance of Donaldson's; and a letter from Messrs. Chalkyard and Sons, telling him there was an acceptance from Rattie of 24l. 16s. 9d., which had not been met, and asking for payment —on 11th May I took Ebsworth at 113, Ferndale Road, Clapham

I read the warrant to him—he said "I know nothing about it; I do not know Mr. Salmon"—his wife, who was in the room, said "Harry, you are deceiving me"—he said "I took the cheque from Donaldson in good faith for rent"—when charged he said "He was residing in one of my houses two years, and he paid me 2l. in money, and a cheque for 5l. 10s., and one for 8l.; that is all I received from him" —those are two of the dishonoured cheques—I searched Griffin, and found on him seven pawn-tickets and some memoranda—I have seen the three prisoners several times during the last 12 months, but Donaldson and Ebsworth mostly—I saw Griffin with them at Brixton and Clapham —I have made inquiries about this tenancy, and am prepared to give information about it—the proprietor of the club is wanted on a warrant.

Cross-examined by MR. LYNN. I found that Ebsworth owned four houses in Solon New Road—the parish authorities stopped Ebsworth from receiving any rent—the houses virtually passed out of his hands two years ago—the mortgage has run out, and the parish has taken the houses—the rates were not paid—I have seen Ebsworth and Griffin together six months ago and further back.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I found where Donaldson lived as Ebsworth's tenant; he has been there two or three years—I never went to this club till I arrested the prisoner.

Cross-examined by Griffin. I saw you together at the latter end of 1887 and at other times.

Re-examined. The property belonged to Ebsworth's wife, and it was mortgaged to the Hastings Bank.

THOMAS CLOAK (Police Sergeant). I took Griffin on a warrant on 31st May; he said "I admit having three cheques; no, you will excuse me, two; no, only one, for 4l. 17s.; I am innocent of this"—some time afterwards I read the warrant to him—he said "I admit having the cheque for 4l. 17s., I borrowed it from Donaldson, and gave it to Barlow to cash; he cashed it and gave me 3l.; I had nothing to do with the cheque for 3l. 10s."

Cross-examined by Griffin. I searched your house, but found no papers relating to your connection with these men.

Witnesses for Ebsworth.

ALFRED SHELLY JOHN . I am a solicitor's managing clerk—I have known Ebsworth about six years, and have had the management of the principal part of his business—in March this year he had some houses in Solon New Road—we have copies of the documents here; it was a Chancery suit; they are not official copies, they are papers which came into my custody—he paid 950l. to release the title deeds from the London and Westminster Bank, where they had been deposited by his wife—since these proceedings the time has lapsed for him to leave—I know that one of the houses referred to is in Donaldson's occupation, and that he was owing rent—this is the agreement under which Donaldson holds his tenancy—the rent is 32l. a year, excluding taxes—a foreclosure order was made, but six months was allowed by the Court—the date of the certificate is May 29, with six months to run; it would expire in November—I was engaged in his business in February last—he and Mrs. Ebsworth were jointly entitled to the equity of redemption, and asked me to sell it—I get an offer of 70l., but the purchaser objected that he would have to get his title from the Court, which would put him

to expense—I had another offer afterwards for 50l. from Mr. Todd, of Amen Corner, but my client refused to accept so small a sum, and told me to get a better offer, as he had some engagements to meet at the bank, as some cheque or cheques of his had been dishonoured, and he was anxious to get money to take them up—some money was also owing to him by various creditors, which he requested me to get, and particularly 11l. from Mr. Bailey—Ebsworth is a gentleman, he has never been in trade—I knew him when he was worth 8,000l. or 9,000l.—I produce a large number of his cheques, here is one for 900l., which he paid for the house in Solon New Road—these cheques represent 20,000l. or 30,000l.

Cross-examined. He has lived rather extravagantly since he married the second time—his wife is a very extravagant lady—this was an action by the Hastings Bank against the prisoner and his wife to recover 962l. 1s. 4d., which stood on an equable mortgage of the premises in Solon New Road; they were Mrs. Ebsworth's property, bequeathed to her by a former husband, and were hers when Ebsworth married her—he was made a party to the mortgage because he had an equable right for 950l., which he paid to release the deeds—the marriage occurred in 1884, which was subsequent to the passing of the Married Women's Property Act—they remained her property subject to that arrangement—a foreclosure was made in Chancery—no money has been paid—they were unable to pay it, and requested me to sell the equity of redemption —1,128l. was the amount of the debt and costs, of which not one penny has been paid—the house was 32l. a year—here is the agreement, this is a genuine document, three years ago Mr. Ebsworth was worth 3,000l.—he is impecunious now—my principal is Mr. Gade—I was a tenant of Mrs. Ebsworth's—I had a notice from the parish not to pay Ebsworth any rent—there was a paving rate of about 7l. due from each house.

Re-examined. This cheque for 950l. was drawn to release the deeds from the London and Westminster Bank, and Mr. Ebsworth took them and paid them into his bank at Watford.

JOSEPH CHALKLEY . I am an inquiry agent and debt collector, of 5, Zion Villas, York Road—Ebsworth employed me early in this year to collect some debts—the largest amount was against a man named Bailey, 11l.—the total amount of debts placed in my hands to collect was about 26l.—Ebsworth told me that as I should not know where to find him in consequence of certain difficulties between him and his wife, I was to pay the proceeds into the Birkbeck Bank, and I was particularly to press Bailey for the amount.

Cross-examined. He was separated from his wife—he did not tell me he was going to move to Ferndale Road; I know that he was found there—he gave me those instructions about 14th or 15th February—he did not tell me he had closed his account at the Birkbeck Bank on the 11th of the previous January.

Witness for Donaldson.

WILLIAM CLAMP . I keep the Rose and Shamrock, Marshall Street, Westminster—I have known Donaldson a considerable time—I promised to advance him some money about February, 1887, but was unable to do it—I deal in antique furniture, and bought rather a heavy lot—I was pressed for 83l., and was obliged to disappoint him—I told him I would

pay it into his bank directly—I had lent him money before, up to 100l., and bad been paid by cheques, which have always been honoured—there was a 12l. cheque once, which was brought too late on Saturday and dishonoured, but it was presented again on Monday and honoured—he came to my house and took it up—that was about July.

Cross-examined. He did not owe me money in March—I promised to lend him 15l. or 20l., which I was to pay into the London and Southwestern Bank—I did not tell him I was unable to do so—I have done that times and times before, because he was an old friend, and I have been in the habit of obliging him; I did so last year—he banked with the Middlesex Banking Company—I did not hear the circumstances under which this account was closed; it was a loan by me to him without interest or security—I have many such old friends, I have made advances to solicitors before now without security—the Rose and Shamrock is my real business—I lend money to my relations—Donaldson has not the good fortune to be a relation—I did not tell him I could not do it—he came and asked me why I did not do it, and I told him I had bought more than I intended—that was about March 2nd—he promised to pay me about the 22nd.

Re-examined. The fact is Donaldson had been security for me—he has befriended me, and I have befriended him in return.

MR. STERN I am a clerk to a gas company—I received this cheque for 2l. 17s. 2d. from Donaldson; it was dishonoured, but he afterwards took it up—it is a Trading Bank cheque.

Griffin in his defence stated that Donaldson, whom he had known before, but had lost sight of, became a member of his club; that he employed him to make alterations, and his account amounted to 39l. 1s. 10d.; that he introduced him (Griffin) to Ebsworth as a gentleman of means, to join him in furnishing and working the club, and Ebsworth lent him money, and he took Ebsworth's cheque to Barlow to cash, but till then did not even know at what bank Ebsworth banked; that he did not know for 10 days afterwards that the cheque was dishonoured; and that Donaldson knew nothing of the transaction; that a tenant, who owed him 50l. or 60l., left about the end of March; that the members of the club were going to have their annual meeting and dinner, and he had to provide food for 150 people, and that Donaldson assisted him, and he thought his cheque would be 'paid, as his other cheques had been, and that the cheque on which he was charged was not filled in by Donaldson, but by himself.

WILLIAM WILLIAMSON (Re-examined). I find the furniture at Rathbone Place belongs to two men, furniture dealers, on the hire system—it is a gambling club—the beer and other things have not been paid for—the man was thrown out of the building when he went for the goods; Griffin and others charged him, with a chair

EBSWORTH GUILTY . — Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

DONALDSON GUILTY . **— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

GRIFFIN GUILTY of obtaining money by false pretences.—Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-704
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceMiscellaneous > sureties

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704. EDWIN GOODWIN(19) PLEADED GUILTY to four indictments for forging and uttering requests for the delivery of money.— Discharged on recognisances

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-705
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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705. SAMUEL ANDREWS(53) , Feloniously uttering counterfeit coin.


LOUISA BERRYMAN . I am barmaid at the Clarendon Arms, Camberwell New Road—on 30th May, about 10.40, I saw the prisoner in the bar; he asked me for some ale and tobacco, price 2d. and gave me a florin—I tried it with my teeth; it was gritty, and it bent a little—I showed it to Mrs. Davis, and said to the prisoner "Do you know you have given me bad money?"—he said "Excuse me, Miss, I am drunk," and put down twopence—I showed him the bad florin; he threw it on the counter—I picked it up, and gave it back to him—Mr. Davis gave him in custody— the constable afterwards gave me this bad florin (produced).

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You asked me in the bar to break it in half, but I would not—you stayed there for half an hour, and had just left when the police came.

RHODA JANE DAVIS . My husband keeps the Clarendon Arms, Camberwell —on the night of 30th May I saw the prisoner leaning on the counter talking to another man—I served them with two half pints of ale, and one of them laid this florin on the counter—I gave three sixpences and 4d. change, and put the florin on the rack at the back of the bar apart from all other money—the barmaid called my attention to it; I examined it, and found it bad—the barmaid spoke to him, and gave it him back—he said "All right, girl, I am drunk," and gave her two pennies—I then went to the rack, took the other florin off, and showed it to my husband, who sent for a constable.

WILLIAM WALLACE DAVIS . I keep the Clarendon Arms—my wife brought me a bad florin, and I went to the bar and saw the prisoner— he threw a florin on the bar, and said "If it is bad break it"—it was picked up and put on the counter, and the prisoner took it—a constable was sent for—I said "This man has tendered bad money, I think you had better take him into custody"—he did so, with the florin—the prisoner swore, and said "If the money is bad why don't you break it?"

GEORGE HANLEY (Policeman L 280). I was called—the prisoner put on a deal of drunkenness, he began to stagger—I took this bad florin from his hand—he said "God blind me, I think it is good now, break it"—I found on him three sixpences and four pence—the landlady said he had paid her with a florin—the prisoner said "I know nothing about that"—I took him to the station; he walked steadily there—he gave the name of Samuel Andrews, No. 1, London—I don't know what became of the other man.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These two florins are bad, and from different moulds.

RHODA JANE DAVIS (Re-examined). I saw the other man go out about 10 minutes after I had served them—the prisoner remained about 20 minutes, and then the barman called my attention to the bad florin—I had put it on the rack, apart from other money—there were two other florins there, but they were on different divisions of the shelf—about 20 minutes afterwards, when the barman called my attention to this bad florin, I went to the rack and found the first bad florin where I had put it—I had been sewing in the bar, and was very busy—I am quite sure it is the same florin—the till is one of Cox's, where the change is kept separate, and this florin could not have been given 20 minutes or half an hour before

Prisoner's Defence. It was Derby Day, and I was drinking. I paid for all I had. I have committed no robbery. I passed one, unknowing it was bad.


He then PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction of uttering counter feit coin.— Six Years' Penal Servitude.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-706
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

706. FREDERICK CLARKE, Feloniously wounding Charles Edward Dennis, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm, in April, 1887


CHARLES EDWARD DENNIS . I am a bookbinder, of 69, Henshaw Street, Walworth—on 5th April, 1887, I was at the Henshall Arms—the prisoner was there with a man named Greenwood and Mrs.Smith, who lodges in my house, in the top room, alone—I left about 10.30 and went home, leaving them there—I went to bed about 11.15, and shortly after 1 o'clock I was awoke by a loud knocking at the street-door—I had not locked it, but Mrs.Smith had lost her key—I went down and opened the door, dressed only in my trousers and slippers—I found Mrs. Smith, Mr.Greenwood, and the prisoner there—I let Mrs. Smith in—the two men wanted to come in, but I told them they should not at that time of morning, I will go and get an assistant," and I got Mr. Tarrant, who is dead—we met the parties in the passage—he took hold of Greenwood and I took hold of Clarke and we pushed them out—the prisoner then struck me in the chest with his fist and ran away—I followed him, and when I got back he was a little way in front of me, and turned round and caught hold of me with his left arm, and with his right stabbed me under the left ear in the neck—I did not see anything in his hand—I put my hand to my neck and ran as far as I could after him, but found the blood flowing, and I became faint—I said "I am stabbed," and went back to the house and became unconscious—I afterwards found myself in Guy's Hospital—I was there three weeks as an in-patient—I went from there to the Convalescent Home, and was there for a mouth.

Cross-examined. He had no pipe in his hand or anything—I followed him 12 yards and overtook him, but did not touch him then—I had pushed him out.

WILLIAM SAMUEL GREENWOOD . I am a collector in the post office, and live at the Mission Home, Tabard Street, Southwark—on 15th April, 1887, I was with the prisoner and Mrs. Smith at the Henshall Arms and saw Mr.Dennis there—we left about closing time—I remember going to Mr.Dennis's house—I was not tipsy, I had had a drop of drink—someone knocked at the door—Mr.Dennis came down and let Mrs.Smith in, but refused to let me and the prisoner in—we had both had a drop to drink—the prisoner attempted to go in; and Mr.Dennis attempted to put us out—I was afterwards in the street and heard Dennis call out that he was stabbed—there was a woman there, I do not know whether it was Mrs.Berry—I saw blood on the pavement—I went to the station and made a statement, and then went with a constable to 75, Long Lane, Bermondsey—I knew that the prisoner lived there—we did not find him there and tried to find him elsewhere, but could not.

Cross-examined. Dennis lives about 200 yards from the Henshall Arms—we went straight there when we left the public-house, which closed about 12.30—I saw nothing of the struggle, I was talking to

Mr. Tarrant about three doors away—I had been turned out—I saw the prisoner running away—that was after the stabbing—I saw no knife in his hand—I cannot say whether he had a pipe—I had been in his company since 3 o'clock that afternoon—I had been to settle a debt for Mrs. Smith, in Bland Street, Dover Road—we had been to several public-houses—I did not say to Dennis "Come out and I will do you"— I was not so drunk that I do not remember, I deny it.

Re-examined. I went to the station almost immediately after Dennis cried out—I was sober enough for that—Dennis was not in company with us in the public-house—I was not drinking with him.

LYDIA BEERY . I am the wife of Robert Berry, of 66, Henshaw Street—we had moved into that house on Friday, 15th April, 1887—it is opposite Mr. Dennis's, and during the night between the 15th and 16th I heard a disturbance in the street—it was about a quarter to 1 o'clock, but the knocking had been going on for some time before—I went to the street door, opened it, looked out and saw two men and a woman—I saw Mr. Dennis open his door in his shirt-sleeves—the woman forced her way in and wanted to take two men in—they wanted to come in and forced their way to the parlour door—Mr. Dennis ran upstairs and came down with Mr. Tarrant, who ejected the other man, and Dennis ejected the prisoner, who struck Dennis in the chest and ran away— Dennis ran after him about 9 or 10 yards and caught him up—the prisoner turned round sharp, got him round the neck and gave him a blow in the face—I saw him strike him in the neck with his left arm round his neck—he then left him and ran away, and Dennis went to his own door and came back with his hand up to his neck, and I heard the blood gush out just as if it was coming out of a gun—he staggered into the passage and Mrs. Dennis came out and called for help—I went over and went into the parlour—he was sitting on the floor and a woman who is a lodger was at his feet—she was the cause of it—I staunched the blood with the tablecloth—he was taken away by a constable.

Cross-examined. The prisoner struck him under the ear—it was too dark for me to see if he had anything in his hand, and I should not have known him again if I met him—Mrs. Smith took the two men there—she had been drinking with them all the afternoon, and it was she that suggested that they should come in—when Dennis overtook the prisoner they closed together.

Re-examined. Dennis was quite close behind the prisoner, not more than a foot or two away when he turned round.

HENRY HOLDWAY (Policeman P406). On 16th April, 1887, about 1.30 a.m., two persons came to me, and I sent for a cab, and went to Mr. Dennis's house—I found him bleeding freely from his neck, and unconscious—I did not see the wound, as a table-cloth was round his neck—I saw a pool of blood outside the door, and traced it for 14 or 15 yards along the footpath, where there was another pool of blood, apparently where the stabbing had taken place—I took Dennis in a cab to Guy's Hospital.

SAMUEL ESMOND PRALL , M.R.C.S. In April, 1887, I was senior house-surgeon at Guy's Hospital—I cannot remember the date when Dennis was brought there, but I examined him; he was only partially conscious—his clothes were saturated with blood, and he had a wound at the angle of his jaw at the left hand side—his pulse was very feeble

—it was a triangular punctured wound, about three-eighths of an inch long, contused—the edges were very bruised—we introduced a probe half an inch—his neck was very much swollen, and there was a great quantity of blood found in the loose tissues—the wound was just over the line of the external jugular vein, which was wounded; the blood was coming from it—a blunt instrument had inflicted the wound, certainly not a knife; it was dangerous—he remained there till May 5th, and from there he went to the Convalescent Home—he was delirious at night, and complained of great pain, and threw himself about in bed, and showed all the signs of suffering from great hemorrhage.

Cross-examined. The wound might have been inflicted by a clay pipe stem; it was probably more than half an inch deep—the skin must have been stretched very tightly from his turning his head away, and when the skin is tightly stretched it always gives way in a triangular shape.

WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN (Police Inspector L). I took the prisoner on 10th May, this year, for another matter (See page 249)—there was a remand, and on 16th May I said to him "I have every reason to believe you are wanted for attempting to murder a man in April, 1887, by stabbing him"—he said "Oh, I don't think you can call it an attempt to murder"—I said "It was certainly looked upon as a very bad case at the time"—he made no reply—after April, 1887, every lodging-house in London was searched for him, and every place which he was likely to frequent for weeks and weeks, but he was not met with.

Cross-examined. I know that he-was employed by a firm in London for two months, and I know where he was previous to that—this is my note of the conversation; there is nothing about "I do not think you can call it murder"; I correct that; I have not got the word "call" in my notes.

Re-examined. He said "Oh, I don't think it is attempted murder."

CHARLES HEAD . I am deputy-keeper at a lodging-house in 75, Long Lane, Bermondsey—the prisoner was lodging there in April, 1887, up to the 16th; he went about 3 a.m.; he had been there about two months, but left, and never returned; he was not in my debt.

FRANCIS BRIANT (Police Sergeant J), From 16th April, 1887, I was endeavouring to find the prisoner—I knew that he lived at 75, Long Lane, Bermondsey, and a constable went there, and I kept watch on the house with other officers for three weeks, but did not see him till May 10th this year.

GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.— Eight Years' Penal Servitude from his conviction last Session in the former case, and Twelve Months' Hard Labour in the present case, to run concurrently.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-707
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

707. CHARLES SAVAGE(21) and ELIZABETH THATCHER(18) , Robbery with violence on George Northcroft, and stealing 1s. 5d. and a silver watch and chain.

MESSRS. POLAND and PARTRIDGE Prosecuted; MR. LAWLESS defended Savage.

GEORGE NORTHCROFT (Policeman V 265). On 9th June, about 10 minutes to 12 p.m., I was in plain clothes, off duty, in Trinity Road—I was crossing some waste land, and had three flowerpots in my hand—I

saw the two prisoners lying down—Savage knocked me down with his fist, the woman took my watch and chain and money—after the man knocked me down, he took me by the throat and tried to throttle me —he hurt me—after the woman took my watch, chain, and money, she looked in my face and said "It is a b——copper"—she then scratched my face—I was knocked about and became unconscious—when I came to I went to the station, and I was on the sick list for two or three days.

Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I only saw one lying on the ground, when they got up I saw two—I saw two on the ground—I spoke first and said "Halloa here"—this was not a large piece of waste ground; I had room to pass round them, they were lying across the footway—I did not say "Get up and go away"—I did not ask the man if he would fight, I swear that—I said "Halloa here," and he knocked me down; I had no fight with him; I did not resist, he was not hurt—he was arrested the same night—there was no mark of violence on him that I know of, no mark on his mouth, no bleeding of the nose, no swelling of his lip—the prisoners Were lying quietly enough, I did not know if they were asleep or not—I was going to pass round them when I spoke—I was within five yards of them—I had not passed them.

Cross-examined by Thatcher, You put your hand in my pocket; when I was struck you both fell on me, and you took my watch and chain—you left a portion of my chain in my pocket.

Re-examined. When I was attacked the three flower pots I was carrying dropped on the ground—I don't know how long I was unconscious.

EDWARD REANY (Police Sergeant V 23). About 11.45 on this night the prosecutor left the station, carrying these three flower pots, to go home —he returned about 12.45 with his face scratched and disfigured; I hardly recognised him—he complained to me, and in consequence the prisoners were arrested.

Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. Inspector Spooner took the charge in my presence—I believe Savage pointed out his lip to the inspector, and said "My lip is swollen and hurt"—I know nothing against Savage.

GEORGE BABBAGE (Policeman V 437). At 1 o'clock on the morning of 10th June, I arrested Savage, at 8, Derby Road, Wimbledon—I said "I shall take you into custody for being concerned with a woman in assaulting and robbing Police-constable Northcroft"—he said nothing— I took him to the station; the charge was read over to him; he said he was lying down on this ground, and the constable came along, and said "Halloa there, what are you doing? you had better be off;" he said 'Can you fight?" I said "No."

Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. The other prisoner was there at the time; they were both standing in the dock together—the female was charged first, I believe.

MOLES ALLEN (Policeman V 73). A little after 1 o'clock on this morning I arrested the woman at her home at Mitcham—I told her I should take her into custody for being concerned in violently assaulting Police-constable Northcroft, and robbing him of his watch—she said "I know nothing about it"—she was taken to the station, and the charge read to her—she said "I will tell you the truth; Charlie was lying down on the ground drunk, and the man came along, and said ' What are you

doing here?' he struck Charlie in the mouth; he got up; they had a fight, and I came away."

OTHAR WINDSOR BERRY . I am divisional surgeon of police at Wimbledon—I saw the prosecutor at the station about 1 on this morning—his face was bruised and swollen; the left eye actually closed from a blow—there was a wound from a quarter to half an inch long over his left eye, and abrasions on the cheek and upper lip from scratches—the throat was swollen, with marks of pressure on it—he is still off duty, and has been under my care since that time.

Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I was called to examine him about 1 o'clock—my attention was not called to Savage; I did not see him there then.

SPOONER (Police Inspector V). I was in charge of this station at Wimbledon when the prisoners were brought in—when the charge was read over to them, Savage pointed to the prosecutor, and stated that he was struck in the mouth by him first—I examined the place he pointed out, and saw no mark or swelling whatever, and I told him so—I went to the waste piece of ground, and saw there the geraniums on the ground smashed, and a quantity of blood in three places.

Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. The doctor was not at the station when the prisoners were charged; he had come and gone—the prisoners were not apprehended till three hours afterwards.

Thatcher's statement before the Magistrate. "Charlie was lying down as he had had too much drink; the prosecutor came up with flowers in his arm, he put them down, held up his fist, and hit Savage, and I left them fighting."

EDWARD REANY (Re-examined by the JURY). The prosecutor had a watch and chain, I did not see it previously to his leaving the station; he had the flower-pots in front of him—I saw the small portion of the chain when he came back to the station after he was assaulted.

INSPECTOR SPOONER This small piece of the chain was found in the prosecutor's pocket—4s. 6d. was found on the male prisoner.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-708
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

708. CHARLES SAVAGE and ELIZABETH THATCHER were again indicted for unlawfully and maliciously wounding George Northcroft. The witnesses in the last case repeated their evidence.


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-709
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Not Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

709. CHARLES SCOTT(18) and GEORGE TOLHURST (19) Stealing 11 watches, the goods of Frederick Cox. Second Count, Receiving the same.


MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted

JAMES HOOD . I am assistant to Mr. Cox, jeweller, of Anerley Road —about 3 p.m. on 4th June I had gone to the back of the shop—I heard something fall—I saw Tolhurst looking in at the door, and as I looked through he called out "Here he comes"—I looked on the other side of the counter, and saw Scott unhanging watches and putting them in his pocket—Tolhurst ran away when he saw me—I ran after him, and he was brought back by two men—I went for constables, and they were taken into custody—when Tolhurst was brought back he said "I had

not anything to do with it; I had not got the watches; the other one has got the watches"—neither of the men are here that brought Tolhurst back.


SCOTT then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in April, 1888, at this Court.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-710
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Not Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

710. ARTHUR FREEMAN(20), JOHN ROBERTS (21), and WILLIAM EVANS (20) , Feloniously breaking and entering St. Peter's Chapel at Clapham, and stealing a chalice, a veil, and other goods of Henry Capper Cheese and others, the wardens; a box and metal cross, the goods of Richard Buxton Lawson Exton; and a pair of shoes, the goods of Henry Frederick Millar. Second Count, Receiving the same.


MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted

WILLIAM RICHARDS (Policeman W 545). At a quarter to 2 on the afternoon of 20th June I saw Freeman and Roberts at Old Town, Clapham, drunk, and using bad language—they would not go away, and I took Freeman into custody—we afterwards heard of the robbery, and he was searched, and we found in his hand a pair of boots and a handkerchief, and screw-driver in his pocket—when charged he made no reply.

Cross-examined by Freeman. You were on a seat on the border of Clapham old Town.

ERNEST BENEY . I live at 12, Waterloo Road, Clapham—at a quarter past 11 on the morning of 20th June I was in St. Peter's Churchyard—I saw Freeman and Evans standing there—Freeman said to me "Is there anybody in the church?"—I said "No, I have just been in to blow the organ"—the church door was only shut, not fastened; any one could open it and walk in—I went away, leaving them in the churchyard. Cross-examined by Freeman. I am sure it was you.

LEWIS JACKSON (Policeman W R 10). At 11 a.m. on 20th June I saw the three prisoners together in High Street, Clapham, about 50 yards from the church—they were walking in the direction of the church— the same evening I arrested Evans about half-past 8—I told him the charge—he said "I saw Fulford and Freeman in Old Town; they were both drunk; they gave me a drink of wine out of a bottle"—I know Roberts by the name of Fulford.

REV. RICHARD BUXTON LAWSON EXTON . I am curate in charge of St. Peter's, Clapham—these articles belong to the chapel wardens—on this evening of 20th June I found the vestry in great confusion; a lot of articles were scattered about the floor—I missed five bottles of wine from the wine case—there were three empty bottles with their necks broken off, and two were gone—this box and small cross are my property.

FREDERICK MILLAR . I am a server at St. Peter's Church—this is my pair of shoes—I left them safe on the Sunday evening before the 20th in the cupboard.

Freeman in his statement before the Magistrate said he went with the others and listened outside the church to the organ playing; that they came away, and that Fulford asked them to go in again; that he and Evans refused, but waited while Fulford went in; that he came out with a bowl of wine, which they drank, that Fulford gave him the shoes to carry, and that he believed the other things were put in his pocket

Evans said that Fulford went into the church and brought out wine and things, and that he (Evans) had some of the wine, but would not have any of the other things

Freeman received a good character.


ROBERTS PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in May,1887.— Two Years' Hard Labour.

2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-711
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

711. FRANK CORNISH(19) and WILLIAM MUNRO(22) , Robbery with violence on Arthur Balderstone, and stealing his watch chain.

MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted.

ARTHUR BALDERSTONE . I am a coachman, and live at 12, Camberwell Road—about 1 o'clock on 23rd May, I was walking along Addington Square; the two prisoners came up to me; Cornish asked me for a match—I told him I had not got one—he asked me two or three times more, I told him I had not got one; then they attacked me— Munro knocked me down and struck me on the forehead—when I was down Cornish snatched at my chain, which came away from my watch and left it in my pocket—they went off—I got up and spoke to a constable—I afterwards found the two prisoners at the corner of the Camberwell Road and Addington Square—I recognised and charged them—they said we had got the wrong man—a policeman afterwards showed me my chain—I was not drunk.

THOMAS LINDSEY (Policeman B 355). About 1 on this morning, in Addington Square, the last witness made a complaint to me, and I went with him towards Camberwell Road, and standing at the corner I found the two prisoners—on seeing us they ran into a lodging-house —I followed them and tapped them on the shoulder, and said I wanted to speak to them—Cornish said "You have made a mistake"—I said "You don't know what I want you for, you know something"—he said "You can't prove anything against me, you will have to let me go"—on the spot pointed out by the prosecutor, where he said he had been robbed, I found this bar—since then a constable has shown me this chain.

Cross-examined by Munro, It was as near 1 o'clock as I can say—the prosecutor was quite sober.

JOHN SHANAHAN (Policeman L 291). About half-past 1 on this morning I assisted Lindsey in taking the prisoners to the station—Cornish said "You have got the wrong men, if there is nothing found on me we will have to be let go"—later in the morning I picked up this chain at the corner of Addington Square and Camberwell Road, where the constable said he saw the men standing.

Munro in his defence said the prosecutor was drunk, and that it was twenty minutes to I when they got to the station.

Witness for the Defence.

PARKER. Cornish was in my company on this night from about 8 p.m. till about a quarter to 1, and I left him in company with Mr. Lane, who is not here—I have known him a great many years, I daresay ten or twelve—I always found him honest and straightforward —a few years ago he was in my employ.

Cross-examined. I don't know what became of him after a quarter to 1


2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-712
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

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2nd July 1888
Reference Numbert18880702-713
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesNo Punishment > sentence respited; Imprisonment

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713. WILLIAM ARCHER the elder, and WILLIAM ARCHER the younger, to stealing and receiving a barrow, also to stealing and receiving a hand truck, the goods of the Civil Service Supply Association, Limited. William Archer the elder also

PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in September, 1874, in the name of Thomas Smith; and also to stealing a barrow the goods of Sophia Harding; and to stealing a barrow the goods of Robert Macdonald.

WILLIAM ARCHER the elder— Judgment respited.

WILLIAM ARCHER theyounger— Two Days' Imprisonment.


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